Knock Out
by HeiHeiTstesetyun
Summary: After an expensive surgery, Berwald and Mathias have barely enough funds to pay their debt. Meanwhile, Alexianos will do anything to send his boyfriend, Tino, through graduate school. To reach their goals, they'll have to risk taking a few hits.
1. Los Angeles

Knock-out

Synopsis: When the prospect of Tino being able to afford graduate school seems unlikely at best, boyfriend Alexianos does whatever it takes to make sure he finishes his education. Even if "whatever it takes" means taking a few hits.

Pairing: ArmeniaXFinland, as well as SweDen, TurkeyXGreece, one-sided RusLiet, and non-related EstoniaXLithuania (no incest!).

Rating: T…for now. ;)

A/N: Zankou Chicken is amazing. Also, again I have to thank LavenderTown's "Invincible" for inspiration. Check it out! :)

…

It pained me to see him like this.

Worn ragged from interning and exhausted from class, Tino would come home, ready to crash without a shower or a proper dinner (eating Corn Nuts in the car doesn't count).

I felt bad- as a musician, I barely made enough money to pull my own share, even with a secondary job at Zankou on the side. Which, really, paid a pittance at minimum wage. My gigs brought in a substantial amount- playing at weddings, parties, and Bar Mitzvahs- but most of our income still came from Tino's work as an intern done at the lab, and went into paying for our humble Los Angeles apartment.

But, without any loans from agencies or our distant parents, it was the best we could do- and we were nothing if not stubborn to succeed.

Tonight was another one of such nights, but Tino looked wearier than usual as we picked at some chicken breast from the restaurant- one of the few perks of work was the occasional free dinner. He sighed, staring into his water, and barely scraped at the meat's skin with his fork before setting it down.

"I have some bad news."

I frowned, nodding sympathetically. "I'd feared as much. What's wrong?"

He bit his lower lip, inhaling to compose himself before he continued. "The lab is going to start paying interns minimum wage."

Silence.

"Alex?" he asked, noticing my shocked state.

"H-how can they do that?"

He shook his head sadly. "I don't know, but they can. I'd get better pay working elsewhere, because with gas prices as they are, I'll barely make a profit of twenty dollars a day…without tax deductions," his eyes became incredibly downcast as he continued, "If I'd listened to my parents and stayed in Finland, I'd be living so well…but I wouldn't have met you." Tino smiled at me.

"You're what gives me hope, even when nothing else can."

"We'll get through this," I reached for his slightly-greasy hand, cracked from months of wearing latex gloves, "I promise. I put my gigs on hold, and start teaching piano and guitar-"

"I can't let you do that," he protested, "Alex, you already did your schooling. I can't make you wait for mine to be done."

"It won't be forever, but right now, we both are making sacrifices. I'll have a more stable income, and you'll surely find another job, as well. Besides, it's most important that you focus on your classes and papers right now, ara?"

He chuckled. "You said it again?"

"Did I? Damn!"

Though distressed, he smiled bravely. "Well, I really appreciate it. I suppose I could find some secretarial work, or something of the like. Or I could be a house-sitter, right? I was used to taking care of my siblings, after all."

I grinned, pleased that he was feeling more hopeful. "And you're gay. The forward-thinking suburban moms would _love_ you! You should call the lab and tell them to kiss your ass if they only offer you $8.50 an hour, though. I pay twice as much!"

He swatted me on the arm in jest, laughing. "You're so cruel. I'm at least worth $25. Hey, maybe I've found a solution to our money problems!"

I wrapped my arms about him in a loose hug after depositing the dishes and cutlery in the sink. "Ohoho, but I'd get too jealous…After all, you might turn out to be a better prostitute than me!"

…

I called my agent the next morning, asking if he could come over to discuss matters. He agreed to lunch, and I busily made preparations while Tino eagerly searched for a new job, having already quit.

"Hey, what do you think of this?" he asked, "There's an ad on Craigslist asking for a 'masseur.' I think I found my calling." He winked.

"You're using Craigslist?" I laughed, "Oh, jan, have some class. At least post some sketches on Etsy if you're desperate."

"Well, how about this? There's a young couple that want a house-sitter for their daughter, and help her with her English. Ah, they said they'd prefer their sitter know Swedish or Danish for lessons. I speak Swedish!" My boyfriend grinned, "I knew it was fate that I always liked that subject in high school, even when no one else did!"

"That sounds perfect for you," I encouraged, "And the pay is good?"

"Very. And not only that, but they live a little over two miles away. I can ride my bike to their place! I'm going to call right now."

"Paljon onnea."

He grinned at me, typing in the number, as I gave the jasmine rice a quick stir, spicing the water around it with some saffron, bay leaves, and salt.

Perhaps I could take up another job cooking…well, I would have to see what Heracles said, first.

Heracles Karpusi had been one of my closest friends since college, starting from when we were roommates freshman year at Claremont. Now, he's my agent, working for a well-reputed contracting agency in L.A. He was a nice guy, though soft-spoken at first, and was pretty funny once you got to know him.

I made sure Tino's and my cat, Hana, was in the living room to greet him as he came in. The guy adored cats, and they loved him just as much. Hana rubbed his legs with her white chin as he entered, and he picked her up.

"Hi, Hana," he greeted in a surprisingly high voice that people only reserved for babies and pets. She simply purred, falling limp as a ragdoll in his arms.

"Hey, Heracles," Tino waved from the couch as the Greek entered, Heracles greeting him back, allowing Tino to continue his job searches on the laptop.

"Hey, man," I greeted, patting him on the shoulder, "Are you hungry?"

"Hmm…a bit."

"How about you, Tino?"

"I'm okay!" he called back, "I already gorged myself on some pannukakkua this morning. It smells good, though!"

"Thanks! So Heracles," I turned to my agent, gesturing to a place already set for him, with a plate of rice, chicken, and pita bread, "I was hoping we could talk about job opportunities over lunch."

"Job oppurtunities?" He furrowed his brow, sitting down. "How so?"

"Well…right now, Tino and I need a more stable income. I was hoping that maybe I could suspend my gigs for a while and start giving lessons?"

He frowned, "I'm sorry, Alex…but I just don't know how we can get your name out there without these gigs. If you fall off the radar, that could be it for you."

"Then maybe I could still teach on the side?"

"You could try, but in this economy, I have no idea how worth your while it would be. I'll put an ad out for you, but that's the best I can do."

I felt a bit deflated, but still kept my hope. "I appreciate it."

"Well," he paused, taking a furtive glance at Tino, "there is a job opportunity in Glendale I could give you. Night-time gigs, every Saturday. I'll send you a message later, if you're interested."

"Of course!" I grinned, "I'd be very interested in that. I don't work at Zankou on weekends, so that's fine. Ah, thanks so much. So, anyway…"

We continued our meal, chatting idly. Little did I know how monumentally these new "gigs" would change my life.


	2. Glendale

Knock-out: Chapter II

Tino Vainamoinen was a thoughtful man. He would spend hours at a time, out in nature and engrossed in his thoughts. Of course, his introspection did lead him to worries, but also to discovery. An intelligent man, he felt that with enough contemplation, he could understand nearly anything.

But Alexianos, after two years of a relationship, was still an enigma to him.

Oddly enough, the two met at one of Alex's gigs. He was immediately drawn to the man that commanded the room's attention, strumming an acoustic guitar and singing with that hypnotic voice of his. Oh yes, indeed he was interested, and approached the musician with bewitching eyes and long brown locks (hair almost akin to his classmate, Francis', though of a darker shade) immediately after the performance.

The two hit it off almost immediately, going on their first date that next week. The two met for coffee, talking about music, bicycling, and their homelands.

They went steady within two months.

Even after all this time, however, Tino still found himself confused- and surprised- with Alexianos' actions.

For one thing, he liked to go on walks at strange hours. Strange being two or three in the morning. Insomnia and restlessness always gave him the incredible urge to be out and about. For another, why was Alex so interested in watching the Kardashians? Tino had to admit- the show was amusing, but didn't Scott and the Jenner siblings annoy him after a while? Tino could barely watch one episode without blushing at Kourtney's shamelessness. Lastly, why would he never take his crucifix off? Tino wasn't against the fact that he wore it, but when he showered? During sex? It kind of made him feel like he was committing a mortal sin every time he glanced at that gold necklace while in the bedroom.

Still, it should be expected that his boyfriend would do something as odd as take midnight gigs in Hollywood.

"I'd like to come and check them out," he began, "but I'd just be too tired." Alex didn't seem to mind this.

So, Tino continued with his days, and at present time, was getting ready for an interview with Mr. and Mr. Kohler-Oxenstierna, along with their daughter, Lillian.

He put on his best dress shirt and slacks, hopping on his bicycle to head over to the condominium where he hoped to begin working.

He was greeted excitedly by a tall, spiky haired man, about thirty-five years of age. His heavy Danish accent was apparent when he spoke, though even that was masked by his enthusiasm.

"Hey! You must be Tino. Come on in! Lillian can't wait to meet you."

Tino smiled. "Likewise. Thank you, Mr.-"

"Please, call me Mathias. My husband's name is Berwald."

"Thanks, Mathias."

"No problem! Cool bike, by the way. It's meant for the mountain, is it?"

"Yeah! You could tell by the tires, huh?"

Mathias grinned. "Mhm. Berwald and I are bicyclists ourselves, actually. We mainly do road biking, though."

"Very nice. My partner and I go biking together, too, but more on the mountains."

"Ah, so you're…? Well, that makes two of us, then." Mathias laughed, "I feel all the safer with you being around our daughter. The women we've interviewed have been great, but a few of the men were pretty…creepy."

"Yikes! I'm sorry about that."

"Hey, no need to be," Tino was led into an office, where an enormously tall Swede sat, eyes trained on Tino like a bird on its prey. He felt a bit nervous.

"Hello, Mr. Oxenstierna," he greeted, smiling anyhow.

"Hi, Tino," he responded, voice surprisingly gentle. The Finnish man relaxed a bit.

"You both have a beautiful condo."

"Thanks!" Mathias piped, sitting next to Berwald. "We have a few questions for you, Tino. First, are you currently employed?"

"No. I had worked as an intern at Schoen Laboratories, but I recently quit."

"Very nice. And on your resume it says that you're a student, as well?"

"I am- I'm working on my Master's in pharmaceutical sciences at the moment."

Berwald nodded, impressed. "Have ya worked with children b'fore?"

"Not formally, though when I lived in Finland, I took care of my three siblings."

"Explains why ya speak Swedish," he smiled slightly, "Did you take it in school?"

"Yep, for six years. It's a bit rusty, but I still remember most of it," he answered in flawless _Svenska_.

"Well, you definitely check out well with us. How about you meet Lilly now?"

"Sure! Does she prefer to be called that, or should I stick with Lillian?"

"She likes Lilly best, but either is fine. She's not picky," Mathias smiled, "Come with me."

Tino was led upstairs and into a brightly colored room, where a girl six years of age busily sewed small outfits for her dolls. The stitches were a bit sloppy, but the end result was surprisingly good.

"Hi, Lilly," Tino greeted in Swedish, "I'm Tino. Whatcha making?" Upon seeing the young girl smile at him, he sat down next to her, cross-legged.

"Anna needed new clothes," she gestured to the doll beside her, "since her old ones got dirty when we went hiking."

"Those look really pretty!" Tino enthused, noting the pink sateen threads, "Did you design them yourself?"

"I did!" She grinned, proud of her creation and eyes shining.

"But you know what every doll needs with clothes?"

"What?" she asked, curious.

"Well, accessories always help, right? Maybe you could make her a purse or a necklace?"

"Yeah!" Lillian agreed, pausing momentarily to ask, "But…will you help me?"

"Of course," Tino beamed, "But I'm not nearly as good at sewing as you are."

"That's okay. Here's some thread, and a needle," she handed these to the violet-eyed blond, "and here's some cloth. Pink is Anna's favorite color," she explained.

"Is it your favorite color, too?"

"Nope! I like blue the best. What's your favorite color?"

"I agree. Blue _is_ the best. What kind of purse should I make for Anna? Does she like a shoulder-bag, or a smaller one?"

"Whichever you think is prettiest. She'll like being surprised."

Despite his clumsy stitches and sloppy product, Lilly was pleased with the purse Tino constructed. After a few more minutes of talking, Tino said farewell to the family, taking his leave.

On his ride home, he couldn't help but wonder: what would he be like as a father? And what about Alex? He knew Alex was good with children from the get-go, but when would they decide to settle down with a family? They would both have to have more stable jobs, first, and Tino would need his PhD before that happened…and then there was the matter of finding a better home, in a nicer area, with enough money left over for savings.

Tino was getting way ahead of himself, and he knew it. They weren't even married yet, after all! Though he wanted to be. He loved Alex, and knew they had a future together, but a wedding was simply too much money.

…Then again, they could always elope.

He figured it couldn't hurt to wait until summer before taking this further. Until then, he'd have to hold off…at least until they had a bit more free time to spend together.

…

I was pleased to see my boyfriend in a cheerful mood when I came back from teaching a guitar lesson. Though my student's methods were novice, she had a lot of heart, and I was excited to see how she'd progress. She'd already mastered a simplistic Spanish song under my tutelage, and that was only after one hour!

"Hey! How did your lessons go?"

"Good! Katherine is working real hard- she has a lot of potential. How about your interview?"

"Great! I played dolls with a little girl for half an hour," he laughed.

I grinned. "You must be so proud."

"Oh, I am. I sewed this amazing purse-looking-thing."

"Fashion at its best! Was the family nice?"

"Really nice, even the really tall, intimidating Swedish guy. But I really bonded with everyone, especially Lilly, and I think I got the job."

"Good for you, jan! See? Everything worked out."

"It did. So, are you excited for that rave, _ahem_, 'gig,' that you're playing on Saturday?"

"Yeah, but I'm nervous, too. I really hope it's not a tough crowd."

You can't always get what you wish for.

…

Mathias settled into his bath, breathing in the steam that rose from it. He'd had a stressful week, with his heavy work-load, ear-splitting headaches, and interviews. He poured liquid soap under the running water, wishing his troubles would disappear like the pearlescent suds that swirled around him.

He had a daughter and husband to take care of, but something about him felt amiss. He was always so tired, even after getting a full night's rest, and often felt dizzy. He'd blacked out a few times at work, and once in the shower. And, what's worse, he had no idea why.

The Dane resolved to see a doctor as soon as possible. In the mean-time, as it was a Saturday night, he was ready to make love to Berwald, fall asleep in his lover's arms, and wake up later than usual.

He smiled at the thought of getting to be intimate with his husband. It had been nearly two weeks…that had to be a record for them.

Mathias pulled the stopper up in the bath, rising to stand. As he did, black shrouded his vision, and he dropped limply back into the tub.

Berwald was startled by the noise coming from the bathroom. He cautiously left his bed, hurrying in. He was horrified to see Mathias' arm caught on the side of the tub while his head remained submerged in the water.

Quickly, he dragged his husband out, performing CPR on the drowned man. He hadn't expected his husband to vomit in the process, but when he began breathing again, Berwald didn't mind. He held the blond tight, almost shaking with emotion, but relieved that he was okay.

"Ya scared me," Berwald confessed, "Been passin' out a lot. W' need t' see someone."

"I'll schedule an appointment soon, don't worry."

The Swede frowned, shaking his head. "No, now. Ya could have-"

"Please don't say it," Mathias shook his head, "The 'C' word. I don't have it."

"How can w' know?"

"Berwald…" he sighed, agreeing, "Okay, but we need someone to take care of Lilly."

"I trust Tino, th' Finn. He's good. Lilly likes 'im."

"But to leave her with him unsupervised?"

Berwald nodded. "W' need t' get ya to th' hospital."

"Okay. You're right. I'll call him right now. I just hope he's still awake at eleven…"

…

Tino was at the door within ten minutes, greeting the two men.

"Lilly's already asleep," Mathias exclaimed, "But we didn't want her to be alone. Will you be okay with spending the night here? You can have at the kitchen, watch TV, use the computer…make yourself comfortable."

"Please, don't worry about me," the Finn pleaded, "I just hope everything turns out okay. Good luck with your examination."

"W' appreciate ya comin' on such short notice. Thanks." Berwald smiled weakly, though Tino could tell he was scared- even more so than Mathias.

Tino worried for them after they left, and said a quick prayer. He didn't know what was wrong, but going to emergency care (as a doctor wouldn't be available at that time)? That sounded serious.

He headed upstairs, quietly checking on Lilly in her room. She slept peacefully, the glow-in-the-dark stars on her ceiling illuminating the room. He smiled sadly- such a tranquil scene amidst chaos.

The Finn headed back downstairs, figuring it couldn't hurt to give Alex a call. He felt uncomfortable being in someone else's home so late without anyone to talk to. It was eerie, and he felt a bit paranoid, even in such a safe gated community.

"Are they okay?" Alexianos asked as soon as he picked up.

"I'm not sure, but I really hope so. They didn't tell me anything else."

"Ah," he sorrowed, "Well, are you all right?"

"I am. And you?"

Alex smiled on the other side of the line. "I think I can manage. In fact, since you'll be gone for the night, maybe I could make some delicious _khash_-"

"Dear God, Alex, you can't actually enjoy that stuff," he laughed, "The apartment will smell like goat shit for a week."

"Goat brains, but I suppose the two are synonymous once they've been stewed."

"I think I'm going to puke."

"Goal accomplished! But are you going to be okay?"

"Of course. You really should head on out, though. You'll be late for your gig."

Alexianos hesitated. "If you're sure you're all right."

"I'm okay- don't worry! Good luck, jan."

He smiled. "Sh'norhakal em. I love you."

"I love you, too."

…


	3. Studio City

Alexianos furrowed a substantial brow when he reached the venue. It was…ugly. The edifice was dark and square, with a few neon signs illuminating the barred windows. He'd grown up relatively affluent in Glendale, but paying off his college debts led him to live a completely different existence; thus, he still was shocked when something seemed _arrandznat'agh_ to his suburban mind, and in the hometown he thought he knew well.

Still, not one to break promises to a friend, he ignored the shadiness of the area around him and hurried inside, giving his name to a burly man guarding the door.

"Strange," he thought, "I didn't think Heracles would have me perform at a club."

The uproarious sound ripping from the throats of nearly 100 crammed spectators shook him out of his thoughts. He looked to the center, horrified to see two stout men battling it out with knees to the stomach and jabs to the chin. What kind of club _was_ this? Had Hera given him the wrong address?

A feeble tap on his shoulder gave him an answer.

"Heracles, what…what is this?" Alex tried not to fret, though it was difficult when the volume gave him an ear-splitting headache.

"Uh, that's sort of what I wanted to explain to you…you'll want to tie this around your chin." He held out a red bandana, and Alexianos' dark eyes widened in shock.

"_Che_! I'm not going to look like some _avazak_ off the street!"

"Do you need the money, or not?" The Greek's features were stolid as ever, but tempered with sympathy for his distressed friend.

"No amount of money is worth this. I'm leaving." Alexianos frowned, upset that his companion apparently thought that he'd sell himself out so quickly.

"You'll get $1,000 if you win the match- no taxes."

Then again, maybe he would.

"…What?"

"Alex, that's a lot of money. Twice as much as a gig. You might be thin, but you're tall and strong; light on your feet, too. Half these meat-heads have not nearly as much natural talent as you do."

"I've never fought before! You know me- I'm not a violent person, nor do I have the temperament to even do this."

"You're _Armenian_, Alexianos. Isn't fighting in your blood?"

Big mistake. If there was one thing Alexianos abhorred, it was being pushed into a mold because of his background- or worse, people assuming things of a majority based on a minority. He steadied himself, then responded:

"Ugh, I hate that stereotype almost as much as the one that mandates that we're hyper-sensitive mama's-boys. Why don't I just steal other people's credit cards while I'm at it, if we're going by generalizations for careers?"

"Alex, all I'm saying is that you have a chance to win. I understand that you're annoyed with me, but it could really pay off if you fight."

The Armenian paused in consideration. "…Do I really have to wear the bandana?"

"Would you rather people recognize you?"

"Good point. Where do I sign up?"

"Well, you see, I-"

"Standing at 5'7'' and 159 pounds…Arthur Kamikazian! Get yer ass in the ring, Kamikazian!" The announcer, a young Scottish woman, laughed heartily.

"Ka-…mikazian? _That_'s my pseudonym?" Alex's eyes widened, and his cheeks flushed with embarrassment.

"Please," Heracles patted his friend's shoulder, "I know it's embarrassing, but it's purposefully so. You have a right to be mad, but at least sublimate that anger towards your opponent.

Alexianos nodded, tying the bandana around his jaw as he proceeded into the ring. He wasn't even dressed! What kind of fighter wore black jeans and a white button-down, with a vest to top it off?

A few of the more rowdy crowd members laughed as Alex ascended, and he was thankful that his half-mask covered his ever-reddening cheeks. He tapped the crucifix around his neck in prayer- he would need it, considering he didn't even know who his opponent would be.

"Ye're a little guy, eh?" The ginger MC asked, concern written across her face, "Ye might not be feelin' so bold when ya see your opponent, though. Ye sure ya don't want to back out?"

He shook his head, reminding himself it was all for Tino. "No…not now."

She smiled at him, though nervously. "All right. And now, at 5'9'' and 179 pounds…Ivan Braginsky, the Ragin' Russian of Glendale!"

The group exploded into cheers of "Vanya!" and "Davay!" Alexianos gulped. One-hundred-seventy-nine pounds? _Christ_.

The shirtless blond entered the ring, giving Alexianos the idea to toss his own top off, as well. Which he did, an enthusiastic spectator grabbing it from the side.

"Men," the Scotchwoman began, glancing furtively at Alex, "On my count of three, ye'll fight. Kamikazian is a first-time fighter, so this best be a fair match. Are ye two ready?"

"As I'll ever be, Eileen," Ivan winked at the red-head, who blushed in response. She turned to Alex. "And you?"

"Yes," he replied stoically, trying his best to appear intimidating. It really wasn't working.

"One," Eileen's eyes narrowed. Alex's hands tightened themselves into fists, his nails digging in to the calloused skin of his guitarist hands, "Two…"

Time nearly seemed to stop in the dead silence that surrounded them. Eileen hesitated.

"Three!"

Ivan lunged forward, more quickly than Alex expected, and attempted a blow to his gut. It was quickly avoided, and a comparatively minor jab to the side was all he felt. He quickly retaliated with a punch to the collar, nearly knocking Ivan off his balance. This angered him to no end.

"Who let a little _gorov_ like you fight, anyway?" he hissed, trying for Alex's stomach again with full force, "Someone as _gouliboy_ as you will get your ass kicked in a minute."

Alexianos' eyes flashed at the insult, slamming his fist into Ivan's jaw with unexpected force. Ivan grinned, happy to have found a sore spot within his opponent.

"Why don't you go back to your boyfriend and cuddle? Or is he the little Greek in the crowd?" Ivan smirked, knocking the air out of Alex, who nearly tripped as another blow was administered to his side.

"If you truly are so curious," Alexianos' gruff voice could just barely be heard by Ivan over the cacophony of the crowd, "My boyfriend is Finnish."

Ivan laughed as he ducked Alex's fist, "A _Finlyandets_? Well, I hope this isn't some strange pair-suicide plan you ha-" a roaring smack sounded as knuckles met cheek, and Ivan staggered backward, losing his footing and tumbling downward. Alexianos took advantage of the opportunity to pin Ivan's breathless stomach down with his shoe, smirking as the other's bewildered eyes met him.

"It's not."

"Aon…dha…tri! Kamikazian wins!" The excited announcer lifted Alex's arm in the air, beaming at him. He smiled back in disbelief. He'd won?

Eileen led him off the ring as the spectators cheered, and pulled him aside into a back office, where Heracles was waiting by the door.

Once inside, she sat behind a bright IKEA desk and beckoned Alexianos and Heracles to do so in front of it.

"A thousand dollars, no tax, as I promised. I can give only give it to ya in check, but I promise I'm good for it. Otherwise, ye'd be gettin' it in tens." She grinned, signing her check with a flourish and handing it to Alex to survey.

"Eileen Fitzhugh-O'Doherty?"

"That's me!"

Alex nodded anxiously. Why did that surname sound familiar?

"I just need yer name, if ye don't mind. I'll keep yer secret, cross my heart," she took the slip back from Alexianos, pen poised to write.

"I…um…"

"Make it out to Heracles Karpusi," the Greek beside him answered, "I'll transfer the money to 'Kamikazian.'"

"Very well, then. Is this all right with you, Mr.- do I really have to call ya Kamikazian?"

"I'm Sascha," he lied, but smiled cordially. Sascha was his nickname amongst his Russian friends, anyway, so it was more like a half-truth than anything else…

"An' then yer ass fell off ," she laughed, "but it's not any of my business. Ye fought real well tonight, I'll have ya know. Braginskiy is good for his weight division, and ye're on the small end, as it lies. An Irishman fought him last week, an' got licked, the poor chuter! Eh, well, I won't bother ya much longer. Enjoy yer money, I hope ye do!"

The Armenian man smiled at her colorful language. "Thank you, I will." He turned to leave before she stopped him.

"When will ye be fightin' with us again?"

_Again?_ Alex thought this would be a one-time thing.

"I don't think I can. My…wife wouldn't approve of it."

"Oh, ye can cut the act, ye don't have a wife!" She winked, "Yer boyfriend would be mighty upset, though."

"How-"

"Yer close friends with Hera, ain't ye?" Eileen gestured to the Greek man, "Well, he's a good friend of me, too. I don't mean to stereotype, but paired with the fact that you're the most clean-shaven Armenian I've ever met, I assumed ye to be such."

Alexianos laughed. "You found me out."

"So, he'd be boilin', eh? Doesn't know ye're doin' this?"

"Heracles told me this was going to be a gig. I'm a musician."

"Ha, the lout he did! Ya poor thing, ye did doubly well, then! Ya have a talent for fighting. Hit the gym, and ye could be makin' two thousand next week."

He nearly felt his eyes bulge out of their sockets. "Two thousand?"

"Yes, sir! Assumin' ye win, of course. Bets are to be high on ye this week, so ya may as well take advantage of it now."

He grinned. It may go against his pride, his moral code, and possibly even his religion, but Alex was willing to do it a thousand times over when he imagined Tino in his gown and cap at a graduation ceremony in the distant future.

"You've got it, boss."

…

Tino couldn't stop himself from yelping as his tired eyes set themselves on my sleeping face, though he'd hoped to be able to sneak back in bed at 10 in the morning without a sound. Berwald's mother came to switch shifts an hour before, and Tino, who hadn't slept a wink, exhausted himself in the ride back to his flat.

"Oh-my-God-your-face!"

I woke frantically, my eyes wide and my hands clutching to the nightstand next to me like a child does to the safety bar on her first roller-coaster ride. However, upon seeing Tino, I relaxed and smiled wearily.

"Good morning, jan. Did you just get back?"

"Yes. What happened to you?" He caressed the edges of the bruise that decorated my jaw, "How did you get this?"

Shit. I hated lying, but what was I to do?

For my credit, I started with the truth.

"A guy attacked me last night."

"What? Why? Who would do that to you?"

"I didn't know him…he just wanted money." Still true. Maybe I could dodge this?

"So he mugged you? Oh, jan, that's awful. He must have taken you completely by surprise."

I laughed. "Yeah, that he did. Don't worry. You want to know how much money I made at my gig?"

His nervous frown faded. "How much?"

"One-K."

"A thousand dollars?" He beamed, "You're lying."

"I'm not- I cashed it in our account this morning."

"You should have gotten yourself something nice with it. Your amplifier is so old!"

"I did fine with it last night," I smiled, "The venue said I could get two grand next week."

"Are you serious?" his voice was tinged with laughter, "Aleksi, that's incredible! God, I'm so proud of you," he crawled into bed, pressing his warm body against mine, "You've been working so hard. Which songs did you play?"

I hesitated, "I can't quite-"

"It's okay," he closed his eyes, sinking deeper into his pillow, "I'm tired, too. You can tell me later."

I smoothed the flyaway locks that settled over Tino's fair eyelashes away from his face, kissing his broad nose. "Sounds good."

…

"M-multiple...sclerosis," Mathias stuttered, the horror of the situation washing over him, "Can it be cured?"

"While there isn't a cure," the doctor began, her sympathetic features betraying her condolences, "there is surgery available to help with your tremors, as well as some medicine to help your muscle tension and headaches. The fainting should, basically, go away if the operation is successful. Dr. Adnan is our best surgeon, and specializes in working with the brain, so you would be in good hands." She grimaces at the mention of the other doctor, and the two Scandinavians wondered why.

"Anyhow," her cheerful sprit was renewed after a brief pause, "it's always your decision as to how you would like to treat this. We will bring in Anja, who will tell you more about your options."

"Will Mathias need t' change 'is lifestyle? Work fr'm home, 'r anythin' like t'at?" Berwald laced his fingers with the Dane's supportively, horrified that he'd never paid much attention to the other's trembling digits before.

"I can't give you any definite answers, but there are many people with Multiple Sclerosis that can still maintain many aspects of their previous lifestyle- they can work, exercise, and have sexual intercourse…I don't think it's appropriate of me to say, but you two are adorable."

A broad grin spread across Mathias' face. "Thank you!"

"Of course. I'll go find Anja. Is there anything that either of you would like? Magazines, water, food…?"

"Can Berwald lie down next to me?" Mathias gestured to the empty space in his cot.

"Of course he can." She smiled, "You both have a nice day."

"You, too!"

Dr. Hedervary left the room in search of the man she most dreaded seeing.

…

"Dr. Adnan," Elizaveta called out to the Turkish man just as soon as she located him in the rest hall, "I'm treating an MS patient. Think you can go talk to them?"

He cleared his throat nervously. "Of course, El-…Dr. Hedervary. Did you send Anja yet?"

"I did, but this guy is still in shock, and I think he and his partner will feel a little better if you meet him before the surgery, assuming they agree to it."

"I'll wait for Anja to report back to me, but once I hear a yes from them, I'll go."

Elizaveta nodded curtly, pausing. "Thank you." She turned to leave before Sadik's voice, normally so jovial, stopped her.

"Please don't be angry with me."

Her brows furrowed, and she pursed her lips while thinking of how to respond.

"You can't expect me to be completely okay with this. Not just yet."

"Would it be any different if you knew I never wanted to hurt you?" He looked moments away from tears, "This is better for both of us, and we both know it."

"It's certainly better for you and Yekaterina!" She raised her voice, her temper getting the best of her.

"Shh, please!" He whispered hoarsely, "Is that what this is about? Because it wasn't for her."

"Don't you dare lie to me, Sadik," her words were harsh, though barely over a whisper, "because I've heard enough bullshit already." She turned on her heel, hurrying away.

The guilt ate Sadik from the inside out. Yekaterina was only a friend to him- he still loved Elizaveta. But he was busy, and tired, and felt he didn't have anything left to give at the end of the day…

Still, he was so lonely.

With a sigh, he walked over to the coffee pot for his third java of the day.

…

"Yeesh, your neck is so tight," Tino mused, kneading the knots that loomed underneath my skin, "You've been stressed out, haven't you?"

_If only you knew_, I thought, but grinned back at him. "A little, yeah. It'll sound trivial, but there's this song I'm working on that's _thisclose_ to completion, yet I can't seem to find the right chord for every third measure."

"Oh, really? Sing it to me."

Thankfully, it wasn't a lie, and I truly did have the lyrics planned out.

"Night gives you a bargain, and you just can't refuse./

Seductive smile reels you in, spark in her eyes lights your fuse./

But boy, be careful, soon enough you'll have no place to turn./

Those that play with fire are almost certain to be burned./

So take a step, cast away regret, the cup is yours to sip./

But drink too much in a single sitting and you are sure to slip./

Devil's water might taste like sugar, but it poisons like liquor./

An' those that play with fire are almost certain to be burned…/"

Tino squeezed my hand. "I love it!" he proclaimed, "And the chord should be G minor."

I laughed. "G minor is perfect! Why aren't you the musician, ara?"

"I could never write lyrics or sing like that."

"I don't believe that. I've read some of your poetry."

He chuckled. "I write poetry in Finnish. I'd be very surprised if you understood it."

"Well, I understand 'Alexianos,'" we laughed, "Plus, at least the words sound melodic."

…

"Mmm…" Lips met and broke in sweet intercourse as I leaned over Tino's naked torso, his legs still (wobbly) standing against the side of their bed. His hips, raised at the perfect level, were caught in between the mattress' corner and my anticipant body, which ground against him at a steadily increasing pace.

"Ah!" I must have done something right, if the breath that caught within his throat was any indication. His eyelids fell heavily over dark grey eyes, which seemed lavender in the dim lighting, and he clumsily fiddled with the buttons on my shirt.

"How is this?" I smirked as my hands trailed along the inside of his lab coat, sneaking underneath the band of his slacks and resting just below the small of his back.

"Jumalauta," he whispered. Grinning, I sat on the bed and leaned his back against me as my fingers worked him from the front, "And now?"

A drawn-out moan escaped his lips, one that I hadn't heard in three weeks. "Take off your pants," he gasped, breathing heavily, as he fiddled with the hem of his own, sliding them down and fussing with his coat.

"Wait!" I led his fingers away from the buttons of his lab-jacket, "You look so sexy right now that I can't bear to make you take it off."

He grinned. "I guess I should leave these on, too, then?" he gestured to his green-rimmed glasses.

"You know me too well, jan," I smiled.

"So what are you?" he grinned playfully, "A sexy pirate? An awkward virgin?"

"You mean I'm not always a sexy pirate?" I winked, "I suppose I'm Alex. And you?"

"Well, then I suppose I'm Tino."

He could be so weird sometimes…and I loved him for it.

…

Pearls of sweat beaded on my forehead as I gripped the bars of the headboard behind me. Tino continued his ministrations, controlled and gentle comparative to what I knew he _could_ do. I would have to raise the bar in order to get what I wanted.

A drawn out groan left my lips, one that flushed Tino's cheeks are darker shade of pink. _Success._

I made the same sound again, lowering the pitch. His own gasps formed a response, sweetly accented by that slow, smooth Joensuu dialect of his (a dialect that became especially prominent during lovemaking).

I writhed impatiently, raising my hips in hopes that he would understand what I was implying. It's not that I minded asking (or that Tino did, either), but isn't it more fun when they guess?

His intuition never failed. He picked up the pace, thrusting roughly, but steadily. The friction was almost _too_ good; it was perfectly calculated, like a practice problem in college physics. _"What is the miu kinetic if Tino exerts a force of x Newtons into Alexianos at an angle of y degrees and a constant speed of z meters per second?" _Not that I had the capacity to calculate this right now- nothing mattered other than the fact that it felt so damn _good_.

"Arag…" I whispered, a stupid grin pasting my face as my mind was overcome with that ecstatic, bubbly feeling that only Tino could give me. It was like he'd drugged me. If he had, I probably wouldn't have even cared, being so out of it.

When his hand wrapped around the base of my quivering member, I was jolted back into reality. His fingers squeezed just tightly enough for my entire being to lean into the touch, but I was coaxed back onto my pillow with nothing more than a kiss.

Everything hypnotized me at that moment. The shadows that obscured his face lit a sliver of his normally full smile, giving him a devilish look. But even a demon couldn't make me think such dirty thoughts, nor could it indulge my carnal desires, like Tino could. It was an understatement to say I loved this man; this wonderful, wicked man.

"Yes kez sirumem." His breath grazed my ear, and I surrendered control, my body draining itself of every extraneous emotion- only bliss filled me.

"Rakastan sua…"

…


	4. Burbank

A/N: You guys get a short ArmTurk background- enjoy. ;) By the way, the plan for this story is to still have a GiriTurk side pairing, but don't worry! Elizaveta will get a man, too. :)

By the way, I don't consider Estonia, Lithuania, and Latvia brothers (it just doesn't make sense. xD), so the EstLat in this chapter is NON-incestuous. I don't write incest.

…

"Mornin', handsome," Tino greeted as my eyes adjusted themselves to the unfiltered light that transcended an open window. I glanced at the cheap, miniature alarm clock next to me (in the very attractive shade of split-pea-soup-green, of course), struggling to make out the time from the two hands without my glasses. Seven-thirty? It was still plenty early. I smiled at Tino, then closed my eyes and burrowed back under the covers.

He chuckled. "Get lots of sleep, jan. You'll need it for all the lessons you'll be giving. When do they start?"

"Noon," I responded drowsily, pulling him in, "…which gives me ample time to hold you."

He leaned forward, kissing me. "Hold away, then. I don't have class until one…I still feel amazing from last night, you know. How are you holding up?"

"A little sore, but it was well worth it. I really wish you would take the lead more often." I pecked the nape of his neck twice.

Tino laughed again. "I'll keep that in mind. Now sleep, Nourie Hadig."

"How do you know that story?" I grinned, "You're always surprising me."

"Because you have 'cheeks more red than the skin of a pomegranate, with a visage as white as the lining…' Oh, except I forgot, you're one of the darker ones," He pecked my nose, chuckling.

"Hardy-har-har," I teased, "Does that make you Swedish, oh pale one?"

"Well, if it walks and talks like one, it is. I'm actually 25% _Ruotsilainen_."

"That…explains a lot." Tino laughed at this, and draped the cover over us once more.

…

As soon as noon struck, I headed for the gym. I was convinced that my first match was only won with dumb luck, even though the league was strictly amateur. Plus, most opponents wouldn't be stupid like Braginski was- and _definitely_ not stupid enough to rile me up. I found an open elliptical and climbed on, easing into my workout. My limbs were sore and creaked with the strain- this would be arduous.

Thankfully, this being Los Angeles that I lived in, the TV screen in front of me could offer me some simple amusement. And the Kardashians were on! Well, this was going to be wonderful, indeed- even if my vision blurred around the characters of the closed captioning.

I heard someone take the elliptical next to mine, but so engrossed in the show was I that I completely ignored him. I…I _really_ like _Keeping Up_, okay? That's pretty normal for a gay man…I think.

"Damn," the person next to me muttered to himself, "This stupid show is on again."

As I turned to the side ever-so-discreetly to see who could utter something so horrific, I immediately snapped my head in the other direction to avoid catching his attention. However, I'd never been too graceful, and in doing so I lost my balance and clung on to the support bars for dear life as my legs dangled to the side of the machine. I let go, falling a mere six inches to the carpet.

The man got off his machine. "Are you okay? I'm sorry I shocked you. If you need help checking out your arms or anything, I am a doc-" his eyes met mine and immediately recognized me. He cleared his throat, a thick flush creeping onto his tanned cheeks.

"Hi…Alex."

"Hey, Sadik."

"H-…um, excuse me, how have you been?"

"Pretty well, thanks. And you? You have your license now? Congratulations."

"Thanks. As you can imagine, it's a relief to finally have it. Are you still studying medicine?"

"Nope. I'm a musician now."

"Congratulations," he smiled fondly, the tension having been soothed somewhat, "You, uh, you always were a good singer."

I blushed, remembering _far_ too much- I shouldn't think of such things in a public setting.

"Thank you. You were a good T.A."

"I really hope…what _happened_ didn't discourage you from medicine. It wasn't your fault, really-"

"It wasn't yours, either. And don't worry," I smiled, "I've found some…interesting callings. Music being my main one, teaching another…How is Elizaveta?"

He frowned, but quickly tried to appear cheerful again. "She's fine. Uh, she and I aren't together anymore now. How is Tino?"

"I'm sorry to hear about that. He's doing well- he decided on clinical pharmacology as his field."

"That's nothing short of amazing. He must be working like mad."

"You have no idea." We chuckled.

"I…should probably get back to my workout. My lunch break ends in forty-five minutes."

"Oh, yeah! Sorry. Good to see you, man."

"Good to see you, too."

…

After an hour on the elliptical, followed by my first weight lifting session…ever, and a hundred pushups (executed with two breaks in between, admittedly), I was ready to crash. How did I even _win_ that last fight? I wasn't very strong, even if I was spritely. The elliptical was fine- I paced myself at 100 strides per minute evenly throughout the workout, and yet I couldn't even bench-press 75 pounds. The girl next to me was benching one-hundred, and she was in high school!

I sighed to myself, deciding that twenty minutes of sweating it out inside a hot sauna couldn't hurt. I smiled upon entering the wooden room, hearing Tino's melodic voice pronounce the word. _"Sahh-oo-nuh," _he would exaggerate to that effect,_ "never sah-nuh." _I entered the room with a towel draped around my thin waist, frowning at the bruise that bloomed on my right hip.

"Alex…," Heracles' voice startled me, and I realized that he and I were the only two in the small room, "good to see you here…were you training?"

"Hey, bro," I grinned, "yeah, quite a bit. I did an hour on the elliptical, but my weight training was pathetic. I think I'm weak."

He laughed, "Yet you really showed that Russian what-for."

"Ugh, you should have heard the things he said."

"I'd imagine he has a pretty big head... What'd he do?"

I blushed, realizing that my complaint would sound childish, "He was basically like 'you fag,'-this, and 'you fag'-that. I'm, uh, kinda touchy about it."

My friend cracked up. "_He_ called you out on that? _Him_?"

"What?"

"Eileen told me he's going out with this Chinese guy that looks like a chick."

"Seriously?" I cracked up, "And he gave me a hard time! That's hilarious."

"Hey, I thought I saw someone familiar at the gym, but I don't know if I should ask you…"

"Yes, I saw Sadik." I grinned.

"Oh…" he flushed, "Must have been awkward."

"Ah, not so bad. He seems sad, though."

"He broke up with Lizzy, you know…"

"Yeah, I heard. Poor guy. He really loved her."

"But what ever happened with you two?... You kept it such a secret."

I chuckled. "You know how badly my family reacted when I told them about Tino, and he's not even Turkish."

"Good point."

"Well, he held study groups, being the teacher's aide and all, and…I liked what I saw. Evidently, he did, too. He really opened me up to a lot of different experiences, and I had fun with him. But, in the end, there was just no chemistry, you know? We couldn't think forward because we lacked passion for each other. We didn't even have sex because we knew there was something missing."

Heracles nodded, digesting what I had told him. "So, you're over him?"

"Of course," I laughed, "I've been with Tino for two years now. Why?"

"Just wondering."

"About Sadik?" I grinned knowingly, "He always thought you were cute."

"Really?" Heracles looked up, and I couldn't tell if the flush on his cheeks was merely from the sauna or not.

"Yeah. Do you talk to him?"

"Not often…there's this coffee shop I go to sometimes, and he seems to always be there. I, uh, kind of bank on seeing him every time I visit."

"Aww. Well, I'm fine with it if you are. Never knew you were into Turks." I winked.

"Aha, says the Armenian that dated one." Hera laughed, "How are things with you and Tino?"

"Great…ha, really great. We've been so busy lately, and money is really tight, but there's something very comforting about being with him…he's brought me peace."

"Are you thinking about your future with him?"

"A little- I honestly don't know how much he's thought about it. He says that in Finland, it's not uncommon for people to be together for 10 years before they get married. This could be just a phase for him."

"It's not."

"Ha?"

"Ha ka. He's crazy for you, man. Tino loves your music, and compliments your cooking, and writes _poetry_ about you. And now he's a babysitter? There's no doubt that he's considering a family with you someday. Has he ever talked about adoption?"

"A few times…a family? You really think? I've always wanted to be a dad." I couldn't stop the smile that spread across my lips.

Hera nodded. "I mean, you two dote on your cat like there's no tomorrow, anyway."

"This is true," I laughed, "So…Sadik? I'm just surprised. What interests you in him?"

"I've had my eye on him for a long time…he's so intelligent, but he's not showy about it at all, you know? I like that… And he's well-mannered in that old-fashioned sort of way. He's also _really_ easy on the eyes…"

"Of course!" We chuckled, "Well, good luck. If there's any man that deserves someone good, it's you."

"Thank you."

We were left to our thoughts as a fresh gust of steam filled the air.

…

Heracles had been in Gallante's for nearly an hour, emerald eyes lazily skimming the faded pages of a random book he'd plucked off the shelf, before the bells hanging from a glass door rustled melodically. He turned around expectantly, but was disappointed when it was a different regular than he'd expected.

"Hiya, Eduard!" the small brunet behind the counter, Raivis, called to the customer, "How goes it?"

"Hey," the spectacled blond replied, "I'm fine, thanks. A busy day at work, but it's good to be productive. And you?"

"It's been pretty lazy in here," he turned to me, "Would you like a refill on your coffee, Heracles? It's on the house."

"I couldn't take you up on that," I protested, though another cup did sound wonderful.

"Oh, nonsense," Raivis bussed my dry mug away from me, "You come here often. I owe it to you."

"Thank you," I grinned at him, "I 'preciate it…"

"You're welcome," he smiled at Eduard, "And a coffee for you, too. Don't even think of trying to pay me."

"You're going to go broke," Eduard laughed, "I insist on a tip, then."

"If you'd let me join you for a cup, it'd be more than enough repayment."

"My hands are tied, then." He grinned, pulling up a chair for Raivis before sitting down.

I chuckled at the conversation between the two acquaintances, happy for the two. They'd make an awfully cute couple.

The bells hanging from the door jingled again, but this time, I did not turn my head.

"The coffee will have to wait," Raivis whispered, "Hi, Sadik!"

My heart pounded. He had come! I continued to read my book, hoping that he'd acknowledge me while walking past. It seemed, however, that he didn't even notice me as he walked to the counter, the length of his white coat rustling.

He ordered the same Arabica blend that he purchased every time he came in, along with a pomegranate scone, and walked lazily to the couch across from me. I peered up from my book, and deciding to be bold, spoke:

"I saw you at the gym today. How are you, Sadik?"

He glanced up, and squinting his eyes, recognized me.

"Heracles? It's been years! I'm well, thank you. And yourself?"

"I've been great," I leaned forward, offering a small smile, "I work in the music industry now- I'm an agent. How are things as a doctor? "

"Really?" he smiled back, "Congratulations. I like my job- it's tiring, and more often than not I spend my free time sleeping or guzzling coffee…but I enjoy it. Mind if I sit next to you?"

"Not at all." I scooted to the side to make room for him, and he leaned back into the cushioning.

"So, what are things like in the music industry? Have you met any stars?"

"No, nobody that you'd know of- besides Alex, that is, but we've known each other forever."

"So he works with you! That's good. You two have always been close."

"True enough. How are things with you and Elizaveta?" Heracles didn't want to sadden Sadik, but did want to segway into the subject of relationships.

"Oh," Sadik looked into his coffee, "we're not together anymore, actually."

"I'm sorry."

"It's okay. It's been this way for three months now- nothing to worry of asking about. Are you still with Kiku?"

"No- we broke up a year ago. I'm not with anybody right now."

"Really? You must be busy."

"Busy enough. I handle all the paperwork myself, but my time frame is flexible. In fact, tonight I have way too much time on my hands…"

His eyes brightened. "Same here- I have the day off tomorrow, since I do a 20-hour shift on Saturdays."

"That sounds terrible."

He laughed, appearing happier than he had at the beginning, with crinkles forming around the edges of his hazel eyes. "It's not so fun. Would you want to do something later? Dinner, maybe?"

Heracles nodded. "That would be great. What time?"

Sadik glanced at his wrist-watch. "It's 4:30 right now…how does dinner at eight sound?"

"You know me too well," Heracles laughed, "I never eat before eight."

"Me neither. Do you know where Granville Café is, in Glendale? It's about 20 minutes from here…"

"Yep. Alex used to be a server there- I know exactly where it is."

"Fantastic. I'll see you there, then?"

The Greek smiled. "It's a date."


	5. Solvang

Knock-Out: Chapter 5

Solvang

Heracles had dressed to the nines in preparation for his date. His normally wind-whipped hair was brushed, a few wavy strands peeking out of his Kelly-green cap. He'd brushed and flossed his teeth meticulously, and sprayed a small amount of cologne (God forbid he should revert to the common mistake of his and Alex's in his college days) on his wrists and neck. He found a clean, earth green button down and paired it with brown trousers and black shoes.

"Shit!" he cursed after a glance at his watch, realizing he was going to be twenty minutes late. He really needed to take shorter showers…

Once at the Granville, Heracles apologized profusely to Sadik, who chuckled in response.

"It's fine. I just got here five minutes ago- I lose track of time easily, too. But I think our table is ready," he noted, waiting for Heracles to reply.

"Awesome," he smiled, "Everything smells great in here."

"I love this place. I tried cooking a few of the recipes- a friend of mine works as a chef here- but it just isn't the same."

"You cook?" They sat at one of the black booths, thanking the waitress as she handed them their menus.

"Only a little; I'm nothing great. What about you?"

"I don't mean to brag, but I'm pretty good."

Sadik laughed heartily. "It's only natural- you're Greek."

"Yia-yia wouldn't expect any less," Heracles teased, "What else do you do with your free time?"

"I've been hiking a lot lately- or, more like going on nature walks. I like taking pictures of everything I see. I don't have a lot of time for it, but when I do, I usually go out to Carpintaria and photograph everything I see."

"Carpintaria is amazing!" Heracles' emerald eyes lit up, "I go surfing there sometimes. The sunsets are incredible!"

"They are! The water is cold, but I love laying out in the sand and resting. Do you go to The Spot?"

"Yes!" the two grinned, happy to find a common, obscure interest, "The clam chowder there is great."

"I'm surprised that you know about Carp. It's not very well known."

"That's why I like it. I even go during the off-season, since it's nice year-round."

"It's best in the spring, when everything in the surrounding orchards is blooming. I collect sea glass and shells- it sounds dorky, but my house has this ocean-theme, so it fits well."

"My home has an ocean theme, too. The beach is one of the things I miss most about Greece."

"You're lucky. My hometown in Turkey was in the middle of the country, far from the shore. It's one of the reasons why I moved to SoCal for college, and why I stayed afterwards." He smiled fondly upon reflecting on his homeland.

The two talked of beaches and nature for a while longer before ordering- a salmon fillet for Heracles, and chicken medallions for Sadik.

"Tell me more about yourself," Sadik implored after the waitress had left.

"Well, you already know the basics. Um, I'm a huge fan of 'soccer,'" he punctuated the last word with air-quotes, "I watch it all the time. I always wear my nazars," he revealed the azure eye beads under his sleeve, "and I'm a cat person."

"Nazars?" Sadik held out his wrist, showing his own bracelets, "I love them. Do you have any cats?"

Heracles laughed, taking a sip of his iced tea. "You'll think I'm nuts. I have three; a Persian and two English shorthairs. What about you?"

"Aw, that's nice, actually. I have one: a Turkish Van."

"Does she swim?" The Greek asked excitedly.

"She does! I always fill up the tub for her when she gets antsy. It's really cute. Her name is Serpil."

"That's a nice name."

"Thanks, I think so. Hey, since you work in the music industry, I'm interested- what's your preferred genre?"

"Hmm…it's kind of like choosing a favorite child, you know? I can't do it! I'd say R'n'B' and techno are tied for first, but I also like instrumental music. How about you?"

The Turk chuckled. "Too much electronica. I've been getting into the Glitch Mob and Swedish House Mafia."

Heracles found it absolutely adorable that he still called it 'electronica.' "Techno is good. Do you listen to dubstep?"

"A little- I don't like it much, but UKF is the exception, and Skrillex is all right. What about you?"

"I like a lot of the mainstream stuff- Deadmau5, UKF, and the like, but I'm a fan of older artists, too. Darude and Cascada are pretty good, and Basshunter has amazing vocals…and then Tino got me into Radiotrance."

"Tino? Alex's boyfriend?"

"Yeah, do you know him?" Heracles regretted bringing the name up, but realized that Sadik seemed curious, not jealous.

"Mhm. We were in the same Medical Students Union in college. He's _really_ smart."

"Well, so are you," Heracles grinned, "really, it takes an intense amount of skill- and some steady hands- to be a surgeon. It must be stressful, though."

"It keeps me busy, that's for sure, but I don't mind. If I wasn't working, I'd probably be a starving artist that has to resort to eating his own photographs, so it's better this way," he chuckled, "Plus, it's rewarding to help others. Anyway, you told me that you're your own boss. What is that like?"

"Well, thankfully, I'm organized. I wasn't always, but in my line of work, you have to be…it's fun, though. I really get to know my clients. I try to go to their shows whenever I can. My only complaint is that I wish it were more respectable. It sounds easy, and at first I even thought it would be…but I love the challenge."

"It's great when you feel like you're working hard. I'm definitely a workaholic," his eyes danced with mirth, "I was meant to be one."

"You wouldn't have become a surgeon if you weren't."

"Exactly! It's such a good feeling, to be actively involved in someone else's life- you know the feeling."

Heracles grinned, "It's satisfying."

The two continued to talk after their food arrived- about their years after college, and their favorite books, and their plans to travel. Both aspired to visit Australia, South Africa, and Japan.

Once their meal was done, they took a leisurely walk around the adjacent Americana shopping center, watching the fountain's spectacular water-show and the lights' twinkling in the trees.

Heracles moved his hand closer to Sadik's, and in a bold decision, clasped his with the doctor's. Sadik blushed- but, grinning, entwined his fingers with the other's. They were cold, but easily warmed in the taller man's touch.

"I'd really like to date you again." At hearing Sadik say this, Heracles felt it- that fluttering, effervescent feeling that rose in his stomach and nearly choked him in a rather blissful manner.

"I'd like that," he grinned, "when?"

"I'm not sure yet. Can I call you?"

The two exchanged numbers, and with one final squeeze of the hand, parted.

Sadik beamed to himself during the entire drive home. For the first time in a long while, he didn't feel empty.

…

Sadik woke the next morning with shaking limbs. He would be performing one of the most difficult surgeries of his career- brain surgery on an MS patient.

He decided to forgo his tea, opting instead to breathe deeply for a few minutes in order to stop his twitching. He thought of Heracles, and his low baritone, and his wind-whipped locks that still looked perfect, and his icy hands. The Turkish man felt his muscles relax, and exhaled slowly. It would be all right.

"Allah…" he prayed quietly, hoping that he would do well. He felt like he needed some Divine intervention today. He concluded by counting his blessings and praying for his loved ones, spending an extra moment to ask that Heracles have a good day. Then, he was off.

…

"My dear 'Sascha,' how are ya?" Eileen shook my hand emphatically as I entered the club, red bandana already settled over my jaw.

I chuckled at her light sarcasm. "I'll be grand when I win this donnybrook," I teased back, trying my hand at a Scottish accent.

"Ay, if ye could just have a Scotchman's temper, as the rest of these louts do," she laughed, "But, on second thought, I prefer ya. Ye'll be fightin' a guy by the name of Saroyan tonight- or, at least, he told me it was. Ya might want to get to the waitin' room for the fighters- most wouldn't interest ye, but there still are a few nice lads. Besides, Hera is already waitin' in there, though if you could get him off the mobile to stop textin' that mystery-man of his, I'd change yer name to Magic_ian_."

"I'll see what I can do, boss." I found the waiting room, which seemed more like a back-stage dressing quarter's for a high school's drama group. It appeared as though half the men in it spent more time dressing their part than training. Of course, this was an unofficial league- I doubted that many men in here thought of it as more than a hobby.

I spotted Braginski, but turned my head away at once. I really had no interest in talking to him, and I simply hoped he wouldn't bother me before the next fight. Saroyan was there, too, but I nearly laughed when I saw him- like many of the men in here (including myself), he was short, and he also appeared to be desperately lacking in cardio. The only worry I had was if he planned on sitting on me. His elaborate mask and "Saroyan" jersey merely made me want to crack up even more. Was this going to be a fight, or a pageant?

The crowd in here seemed to be a mixed group- there were, of course, a few Armenians and Russians (this _was_ Glendale), but there were also Asians, blacks, Latinos, and whites. Still, it seemed as though most of us were California-grown- the valley accent was dominant among us.

In the corner, a man of a 5'8'' stature leaned against the wall, eyes wide with shock, and a scarlet blush visible under his white bandana. Unlike the rest of the lot, he looked very different. His eyes were extremely light, his skin was pale, and if a beanie weren't situated over his head, I'd bet that his hair was fair, as well. His terror gave it away- this was going to be his first fight.

I walked over to him, noticing his countenance change at once. His eyes were now fierce, and his stance assertive. He was trying to overcompensate, but I wouldn't call him out on it.

"Your first fight?" I asked the man, trying to appear friendly despite the fact that my smile was covered.

He simply nodded.

"That was me last week. Don't worry about it. The guys in here look like they take fashion more seriously than fighting."

This time, the slight raise of his cheek bones revealed that he was smiling. "I can't believe it," he said, in a voice that I knew was strained- he wanted to remain as anonymous as possible, "I wrestled a little in high school, and it was nothing like this."

"So you're a veteran, huh? You're one to be feared, then. I think you'll do well."

"I appreciate that. You must be the 'Kamikazian' Eileen told me about."

I chuckled. "I'm the one- but please don't call me that. It's a stupid name that my friend submitted. I'm Sascha."

"Ah, she also told me not to believe that- but I get it. I don't want anyone to know who I am, either." I noticed that he had a faint accent, despite his attempts to hide it.

"So, where are you from originally?" I asked.

"England," he replied quickly. I didn't believe him in the least.

"Okay, and I'm from Finland." He laughed.

"I don't believe that one bit, 'Sascha.'"

"And I don't believe you're English."

"I'm from Karelia," he confessed, "Well, Russia, I guess."

"I know. I have a friend from Karelia."

"So you do? A Russian?"

I decided it was best to keep Tino's identity as covert as possible…even if he would be horrified if he knew that I called him a Russian.

"Of course. What else is there in Karelia?"

"Well, there's…never mind. Nice. I'm assuming you're a Russian, as well?"

"Yep- only half, though. I'm also half Armenian."

He chuckled dryly. "You look it. A…close friend of mine is Armenian."

"Your girlfriend is?" I asked, winking.

"Um, yeah…you could say that."

"Okay, I'm done prying. But can I ask what I can call you?"

"Well, I'm 'Sascha.'" He was called from the door, and with a chuckle and a wave, he was gone.

What a weird guy! And yet, I admired him for it.

…

Mathias awoke in the hospital late on Saturday. He was tired, it was true- exhausted from his surgery. He felt awfully lonely, too- Berwald had to catch up on work for the both of them (the two ran a private engineering firm), and take care of Lilly, as well- Tino had gotten a Saturday job as an announcer for a comedy club, he had told them, and now had to take weekends off. He took his phone off the tray next to his bed and dialed his husband's number.

Ring.

Ring.

Rrrrrriiiiiiinnnnnnggggg…

"_Hej, you've reached th' voicemail box 'f Berwald Oxenstierna-Koehler. 'm not here at th' moment, b't if ya leave yer name an' number, I'll get back t' ya. Have a n'ce day." _BEEP.

Mathias didn't think much of it- his husband was obviously exhausted- but sighed to himself. The surgery would hopefully be effective, but it was still too soon to tell- he needed to continue taking his medicine in order to know whether he'd stop passing out or not.

He did notice that his arm wasn't trembling anymore, though. This gave him hope.

He tried to fall back asleep, despite the growing anxiety that something was off. Others would laugh if he said it, but he'd always had a special perception- a sixth sense, if you will- and he had the feeling that Berwald wasn't sleeping at all.

He shook the awful thought that emerged in his head. Berwald definitely wasn't cheating! And he wouldn't be out at this time of night, leaving their daughter alone…of course, their gated community was probably the safest place in Los Angeles for Lily to be, but Berwald was very protective of their child. Mathias forced himself to calm down- anxiety is often a side effect of having brain surgery, he remembered that Dr. Adnan had told him. With a few deep breaths, he forced himself to think happier thoughts. He was back in Costa Rica with his husband, where the two had spent their honeymoon. He forced his senses to recall the taste of Coronas and pollo con arroz. He watched the gentle waves crash onto a fertile, dirt shore…

_ "Good morning!" Mathias cried as he threw the covers off both himself and his newlywed husband. Berwald groaned, rolling to his side to catch a few more moments of rest._

_ "I know how you like your sleep, min kaere, but it's already 9:50, and they stop serving breakfast at ten."_

_ The two were staying at a wonderful resort, Diquis de la Sur, which had multiple private huts (or cabinas) on location, and a main awning under which the kindly owners served breakfast. Every morning, fresh fruit and citrus juice awaited them, along with eggs, waffles, and sausage. It was wonderful. _

_ Berwald rose out of bed, pulling the shorter man into his chest for a hug. "It's s' wonderful t' wake up next t' ya," he whispered. Mathias beamed. _

_ "My thoughts exactly. Now, let's get dressed- I'm starved!"_

_ The two hurriedly threw on their swim trunks and T-shirts, and then walked the path up to the awning. Along the way, they admired the botanical gardens and countless butterflies, and held hands. Berwald leaned against Mathias' shoulder, and the other kissed his love on his cheek._

_ They ate slowly, chatting idly about everything- their future, what they wanted to see in Costa Rica, pop culture. Mathias felt as though he was looking at Berwald for the first time. The tall Swede couldn't stop smiling, and his cheeks were flushed boyishly. His glasses fell over the bridge of his nose, and his hair was as messy as could be, but none of this mattered- Mathias was looking at the most wonderful man in creation, it seemed. He never knew that love could be so incredible; and _never_ had he assumed that he could love another man this much. And yet, with every ounce of his being, he adored Berwald._

_ He smiled at thinking of his lover's name. Yes, it was beautiful, just as everything else about Berwald was. His strong hands, his awkward-yet-adorable laugh, his kind heart, his huge-_

_Ahem._

_ And Berwald felt quite the same way. Seeing Mathias' ever-present grin, which had only intensified with the happiness that he felt, never failed to brighten his day. The Dane's pool-blue eyes knew him at once- he found enormous comfort in them. Most wonderful of all, he knew that Mathias and he would someday be fathers- a thought that filled him with an excitement he was almost embarrassed to feel._

_ They loved each other- but it was not only the passion that connected them. The two had the deep bonds of friendship to carry affection, even when the romance did fizzle. They knew, without a doubt, that they were forever._

…


	6. Calabassas

My fight against Saroyan was a joke- I even felt a little bad when I knocked the guy down after three punches. Still, I was happy to have won- and the crowd was equally excited to have won off of me. Another $2,000 in the bank made me the happiest guy in LA.

I wanted to watch Sascha's fight, as well, and see if I could learn any tricks off of him. He seemed to have more experience than many of the guys that fought at the club, and I'd do well to copy his technique. He and I may have to fight against one-another at some point, anyhow.

He was paired against a much tougher opponent than I was, which was surprising, since Sascha was only of an average build and weight. Still, he brought the guy down with impressive strength, and choked the other opponent into submission. It was actually a little terrifying- I had no idea how to do any of that.

I congratulated him after his win, and the two of us walked to Eileen's office to collect our checks. However, when we entered the familiar room, we found a decidedly unfamiliar man talking to Eileen. The two seemed happy, and were chatting loudly and with great movement.

"Hey, Eileen," Sascha greeted, causing the ginger woman to turn around and grin.

"Ah, my two Saschas! You both are getting' along like peaches an' cream, I'm hopin'? I know this one over here," she pointed to the pale man next to me, "quite well, Kamikazian. He's a real tough guy, but one of the nicest ones I know, I'll tell ya! Ah, but I've forgotten- Saschas, this is m' husband, Aeden. Ricky, these are the Saschas."

The brown-haired, freckled man smiled at us and shook our hands. "Nice to meet ya two! My wife likes ya both an awful lot, so I'm relieved to hear ye two like men. Excellent fights out there tonight!"

"Thanks," I nodded to him while Sascha blushed. So he was gay? At least that made two of us, "It's great to meet you, too, Aeden. Eileen is awesome." The Scottish woman smiled at me.

"That she is," Aeden grinned at his wife, "She doesn't often work here, you see- just on Saturdays. She takes over for me, then. Eileen is a pharmacologist, but never tells any of the chuters here, Lord knows why."

"Ah, they'd not respect me," she laughed, "It's better I seem like a brawler. I'll get ye two yer checks, but first, I have a proposition for ye both. We've been thinkin' of makin' things more interesting around here by having team fights- a pair against a pair. What do ye two say to teamin' up? Russian Sascha could teach Armenian Sascha a few tricks, and Armenian Sascha could throw some heavy punches to help Russian Sascha out."

I looked towards Sascha. "What do you say?"

He shrugged. "It sounds good. Should we both train together?"

"Sure," I answered, "Where?"

"Ah, the club is shut down durin' the early mornin' and day, so why not here?" Eileen interjected, "Ye two can practice in peace and keep yer identities concealed. 'Tis much better."

"That's a great idea!" I nodded to Sascha, "What do you think?"

"That's perfect for me. Let's train at five in the morning, then." We turned to Eileen, who had two checks made out to us. I couldn't help but notice a particularly long surname issued on Sascha's check in my peripheral vision, but with my poor eyesight, couldn't read a letter.

"Great fightin' tonight, men. I'm happy to have ya two in the league. Does your man yet know ye're in this, tanned Sascha?"

A pang of guilt struck my stomach. "No…I know that's bad. He wouldn't like the idea of it. We just really need the money."

"I understand completely," Sascha turned to me, "I'm in the same situation right now. My boyfriend is working multiple jobs…I feel awful about it. He doesn't know either."

"It's best they don't," I agreed, "No use in making them feel guilty."

"Ah, ye two are romantics, I see. I say, no secrets! But then again, I'm not in ye're positions." Eileen smiled fondly at us, "Ye two have a good night. I'll see ya tomorrow, pale Sascha."

"Yep," he nodded to her, "See you!"

I wondered how Sascha knew Eileen, but decided not to ask him for the details. That could wait.

…

Berwald wiped beads of sweat from his brow, twirling a bottle of Absolut in the air before pouring a portion of it into an iced tumbler. A few spectators clapped for him, growing amused when he tossed the vodka over his shoulder and caught it with his other hand.

He hated bartending- he'd done it through graduate school to pay off debts, and it now seemed he would have to again. The sweaty, drunken crowd bothered him, and he hated the loud, looping music that blared from the speakers. Still, it was good money- and they certainly needed it after Mathias' operation. He had checked every lock and window in the house before leaving, feeling remorse for the fact that Lilly was home alone. Still, there was nothing to be done. His shift would end in an hour, and after that, all would be well…at least until next weekend, when he would work again. What time was it, anyway? Two in the morning? It was a good thing that he knew both his daughter and husband were heavy sleepers- and that he'd always had a habit of going out on night-walks.

He desperately wanted sleep. Over the past few days, he'd hardly gotten any, sick with worry over Mathias' operation. Still, he needed to do this. He wasn't merely working for himself- he had his loved ones to care about and provide for, after all.

"A rum and Coke, please," a dark-haired man, weary and sweating, asked from the other side of the bar. His eyes were rimmed with dark, almost charcoal-like circles, and his voice sounded awfully familiar…

It was. This man was a musician! He'd played at the last gala for Mathias and Berwald's firm. What was his name? Kerzirian? No…that wasn't it.

"Kirzigian!" Berwald exclaimed, before realizing to his own embarrassment that he'd spoken the others' name aloud. The man perked up and blushed.

"Yeah…that's me. I promise, I don't normally drink…I've had a rough night."

"Y' don't have t' explain yerself t' me," Berwald smiled, trying to appear friendly, "I get 't."

"Thanks," Alexianos laughed, "I appreciate that."

"Y'r drink will b' right up," the Swede promised, nodding to his exhausted customer.

Some hard liqour, in all honesty, sounded really good right then.

…

Tino could barely sleep. He knew that he shouldn't feel guilty- that he was doing the right thing, and that he didn't have to confess anything to anyone. And yet, his stomach still felt as though someone had just taken a vat of acid and poured a cup of water into it…ugh. He turned his pillow over- no, it was fine. Alexianos would be home soon, and all would be well, and the Finnish man wouldn't feel any guilt for what he had just done…

…

It was Sunday morning that Sadik had called Heracles.

"Hello?" Hera picked up on the third ring, grinning when he heard his favorite Turk's voice sound over the line.

"Hi! Are you free today?"

"Yep!" The Grecian man slid a few fried eggs and some hash-browns onto his plate, bringing the meal over to the kitchen table, "Completely free. What did you have in mind?"

"I was wondering if you'd like to go on a hike with me, actually. I know a really good trail in Valencia, but it's pretty windy over there."

"Oh, in 'Awesometown?'" The two laughed.

"I suppose we'll have to judge that for ourselves, won't we?" Sadik grinned, "What do you say?"

"Sure thing. Can you drive me? I'm hopeless with directions."

"Of course. I'll swing by your apartment at one. What's your address?"

After the information was relayed, the two said their good-byes. Heracles nearly jumped for joy once he hung up. A second date! And they'd go for a hike together- something about the plan seemed really cute to him. Sadik was just as excited- he paced around his house, hoping that the next two hours would pass quickly.

…

"Good morning, kulta," Tino greeted as I opened my eyes, "You must be so tired. You didn't get in until late last night."

"Yeah," I laughed, "My gig went until stupid o'clock in the morning. But I have another 2K to put in the bank, so I'm quite pleased."

"Two-thousand dollars? For just a gig?"

"Yeah. Some really wealthy people had me perform for them- apparently, one of the guests was some D-list star that's rich as all get-out."

"I'm sure you did great. I actually have some good news as well. You know that comedy club I hosted last night? They had me do some stand-up in a competition, and I won! I brought home $1,000."

"Seriously? I had no idea you were so talented! I'm really proud of you, jan."

He grinned. "I'm proud of you, too. We're going to get through this rough spot." He held up his hand, and rather ceremoniously, we high-fived.

"By the way, I'm having a guest over for dinner, along with her husband. You'll really like her- she's my co-worker."

"Really? That sounds great. What's her name?"

"Eileen Fitzhugh-O'Doherty. She's this hilarious red-head from Scotland- you two will get along great. Her husband's nice, too. You don't have to worry- he's not homophobic. Apparently, he'd just gotten out of a relationship with some English guy before he met Eileen."

My eyes widened in panic. "You don't say?"

"What's wrong?"

"Oh, nothing- I just thought I heard that name before, that's all. You've probably mentioned her to me before."

"I'd think so…come to think of it, I keep forgetting to tell you about my coworkers. Ah, well. This will be a good way for you to meet one of them."

"Definitely." I smiled forcedly, "When will they be coming over?"

"Seven. And don't worry! I'll be cooking. I have something planned."

I shuddered to think of my boyfriend attempting a non-Finnish dish. "I can help, if you'd like."

"Nope! Jan, these people are _British_. I have nothing to worry about."

I laughed. "Of course- I'm not doubting you. But just in case, we have pasta-in-a-bag in the freezer.

Tino mulled this over for a second. "I may have to consider that, if my meal fails. Which it won't. I'm determined to prepare a feast!"

"You are the Iron Chef!"

"Damn straight!" We grinned at each other. "And call Hera, dear skeptic. He has some good news for you."

…

"Hi, papa!" Lillian cried as she entered the kitchen, where her Swedish father was making smoked-salmon crepes, "These smell good," she commented.

"Mornin', alskede," Berwald greeted his daughter, lifting her off the ground in a bear-hug. The girl giggled as she was set back down, "How'd ya sleep?"

"Good," she commented, staring at the pastries being cooked, "I miss daddy, though."

Berwald made a sorrowful noise in the back of his throat. "Daddy misses ya, too. He'll b' back soon." He moved a rubber spatula against the black pan and plated a few crepes for his daughter. "Could ya pour 's some milk?"

"Sure," she replied, standing on her toes to reach the carton at the top of the refrigerator. She took two Disneyland glasses and poured each to the brim. Berwald smiled for the first time in days.

…

"Eileen!" Tino greeted his coworker with a hug as she wiped her rain-drenched galoshes on a bristled door-mat.

"Woah, ya knave! Don't knock me down, now!" She laughed, hugging him back as she slipped out of her boots. I was surprised that she, like Tino, was accustomed to taking off her shoes before entering a room- but, then again, she was from foggy Scotland.

"This is ma' husband, Aeden. Ye two have met once before, I'm certain." The man next to her beamed, and I felt the onset of a nervous headache. I inhaled to steady myself before greeting the two with an extended hand.

"It's nice to meet you, Patrick!" Tino grinned, "This is my boyfriend, Alexianos."

"I'm glad to meet you both!" I felt strangely liberated, speaking unmasked and unrestrained in front of the two. They both smiled cordially at me and shook my hand.

"So ye're the musician I've heard so much about! I'd love to hear ya play sometime. Glad to know ya, Alex!"

Aeden laughed, "Indeed, it's a pleasure! Ya two have a lovely apartment- I wish ours was nearly so decorated."

"Please come inside!" Tino beckoned, "It's chilly outside. I don't want you two to freeze any longer."

"Oh, says the poor Finn who probably thinks it's bright an' warm!" Eileen clapped her hand on his shoulder, "Ay, but we'll have to take ye up on that. Yer radiator calls to me."

Tino turned to Aeden and chatted comfortably with him while Eileen glanced at me.

"How lucky are ye!" She whispered, grinning, "Yer boyfriend is a true sweet-heart. The friendliest Finn I ever met and a brilliant scientist. But ye- I could swear it I've seen ya before."

The heat drained from my face, but I smiled nonetheless. "Have you? Perhaps you've seen one of my fliers?"

"No…not from there. Yer eyes look an awful lot like someone else's…hmm, but I must be confusing things, eh?" She laughed heartily, "How is it, as a musician? What genre do ye play?"

I relaxed somewhat when she let go of her suspicions and sat next to her on the couch in Tino's and my living room. A stack of glass coasters lied on the table. I wanted desperately to fiddle with it.

"It's difficult to describe, but I do a lot of folk among other things. I really like the sound that comes from the Appalachians and the south- it inspires a lot of my songs."

"I love folk music!" Her green eyes widened, "M' father played the bag-pipes every day to wake ma' sisters and me up when we were children; the man still does! I must sound like a stereotype." We chuckled.

"That's quite all right- my dad used to always play the duduk; I understand your pain."

"Has he forgotten?"

"Oh, no. He passed away a little over a year ago."

She placed her hand over her heart, her face etched in concern. "What terrible news- ye must miss him awfully. May he rest in peace."

"Thank you- I'm sure he is. I do miss him, but I like to think he's always watching me. He always liked Tino a lot, which really surprised me."

"It's difficult not to like 'im!"

"That's true! So how about you? How do you like being a pharmacologist?"

"It's a wonderful career- I had originally worked as an intern at the Pfizer in Dublin, where I met Aeden- he's a businessman. I wanted to get my PhD at Vanderbilt, so we moved to Nashville, but during a trip to Southern California, I fell in love with this place. Even if the weather is menopausal. "

Tino excused himself from the room to check on the meal. "You stay here with Eileen and Aeden, Aleksi."

I nodded. "Will do!" I turned back to Eileen, glancing at Aeden to invite him into our converstion, as well.

"California truly is beautiful- the beaches and sunsets here are like nothing else. How did you two meet?"

Aeden reached for Eileen's hand, which she happily surrendered. "We both were volunteerin' at the same domestic violence shelter, actually. I met Aeden during my third week there, and we became friends. After a few months, he asked me on a date, and here we are. He's the first man that's ever been so kind to me, besides ma' father, of course."

"It's impossible not to be." Aeden smiled, and my heart softened at the sight of them. They were an adorable couple.

"You two look really sweet together."

"Thank ye! Now, how did ya meet Tino?"

"A few years ago, he went to a concert of mine. I noticed him as soon as he came into the room, and he seemed to like me, as well. He talked to me after the show, and we ended up going on a date the next day."

"How long have ye both been together?" Aeden leaned forward slightly, curious.

"It's been two years, I believe-"

"Aleksi?" Tino called from the kitchen, his voice carrying an undertone of anxiety.

"Excuse me- please feel free to have some of the wine on the table."

"I thought ye'd never ask," Eileen chuckled.

I made my way into the kitchen, where a badly-charred chicken surrounded by blackened carrots was being disposed of by my frantic boyfriend.

"Oh, jan…" I hugged him from behind, "Don't worry. I'll start on the pasta, okay?"

He nodded, his cheeks bright red.

"You don't have to be embarrassed- things like this take practice, ara? If it's any consolation, I'd still eat it."

Tino smiled somewhat. "You're sweet. I'll get rid of this outside."

"Okay. This should be done in about ten minutes."

…

The dinner went well, and the conversation never lagged. The four of us chatted about food, travel, and music until the subject of Aeden's job was brought up.

"What sort of business do you own, Aeden?" Tino asked before taking bite of penne alla vodka.

"I actually manage a night-club. Most nights, there's just dancing, but on Saturdays, there are wrestling matches. I didn't really fix to have it that way, but the previous owner of the club did, and I realized I'd lose a lot of patrons if I didn't continue the tradition."

"That's interesting," I mused, "It must be difficult to manage that, though." I couldn't help but notice that Tino and Eileen shared a glance for a fraction of a second. I wondered why.

"Well, thankfully Eileen really helps me out," he grinned at his wife, "but a lot of the guys that compete are complete meatheads."

"Not all of them, though," Eileen contributed. "There's a really nice guy that calls himself 'Kamikazian.' Well, he doesn't really want t' fight, but the poor chuter's friend entered him, and he badly needs the money. He doesn't look like much, but he's an intense boxer. He brought down a guy much larger than him just with his fists."

"You don't say?" Tino's eyes dilated in interest.

"Indeed," Aeden continued, "I've never seen someone that small land such heavy punches. The lad is very mild until he enters the ring. Anyhow…"

We spent another half hour chatting before the guests left, leaving us a nice bouquet of flowers as their thanks. Once they were gone, Tino and I cleared the table and washed the dishes. My boyfriend was unusually quiet.

"They were great," I smiled at him, "I'm glad they came over."

"Eileen is really sweet, and so is Aeden…I really appreciate you covering for me with dinner. I don't know why I put it in for so long. I've had a lot on my mind lately."

"I can tell. Is there anything you want to talk about?"

He sighed. "I've just been really worried about the money situation. I just want to have my degree already so that I can earn a stable living. You're doing so well with your gigs, while I'm barely contributing anything, save for my babysitting wages…and gigs can be hard to come by."

I placed my hand on his shoulder reassuringly and led him to the living room, where we sat on the couch. "We only have a little bit longer to go, jan. I promise you that everything will be okay. I know it must be hard to miss out on internship experience, but you're brilliant. As soon as we get a little more saved up, you'll be back at the lab. You love it there."

"This economy is just so shitty…But we have to stay positive. Thank you, Alex."

I hugged him. "It's not a problem. You're amazing, Tino. I'm really lucky to be with you."

He blushed. "I was just thinking the same about you"

"I never knew you had such an interest in boxing, by the way."

He grew rigid in my arms. "Yeah, uh, I used to wrestle in high school. I was actually pretty good."

"Oh yeah! I remember you telling me that, now. My dad used to box."

Tino smiled sadly. He missed my dad nearly as much as I did. "Professionally?"

"For a little while. He earned a bit of money that way in Armenia- enough to ride a ship over here and enroll in community college. And then he stopped. He used to tell me that once he met my mom, he didn't have it in him to swat a fly."

"How is your mom?"

"Her guardian says she's okay…her Alzheimer's is getting neither better nor worse. I'm glad that she had enough savings after my dad passed away for her care."

"When did you last visit her?"

"A few days ago. She thinks I'm another caregiver, and she tries to flirt with me."

Tino chuckled. "I love your mom. Your whole family. She must still love you to death in your heart."

"I know she does. She sometimes asks her caregiver where her son and daughter are. I just wish that they could still be your family, too."

"You're my family now."

I held him closer. "I always will be."

He smiled tauntingly. "Is that a promise?"

"An unofficial one."

Tino closed his eyes and smiled, settling himself over my chest. "Then I hypothetically promise the same."

…

A/N: Wow, it's taken me forever to update! Thanks to everyone that waited on this, anyhow. I'll try to write more as soon as possible. I'm working on an original series right now called 'The Assylum," which can be found on my deviantart (pianoislove) or on meettheinmates(dot)tumblr(dot)com. It's a comedy series, and the six main characters are all students at Northwestern University. Please check it out. :)


	7. Verdugo Hills

I woke to a note left on the pillow next to mine- Tino went off for a run. I felt relieved- he didn't have to know that I was sneaking out to practice.

I found my checkered, red-and-black scarf and tied it around my face. It seemed a little more stylish than a bandana. After situating a trapper-hat on top of my head, I left for practice. I didn't have time to gel it, after all…and I hated gel, anyhow.

Sascha waited outside the club, a blue bandana over his chin. He was wearing an ushanka, as well.

"Ready for practice?" He asked, coughing to force his pitch to deepen.

"Definitely," I replied, taking a puff of my asthma inhaler in the process. He smiled fondly.

"My boyfriend uses the same stuff."

"Really?"

"Yep. And he takes about twenty allergy pills. It's insane."

I laughed. "I do, too. There's so much stuff growing out here."

"Yeah. Does your guy know you're here?"

"Nope. He hopefully will never find out."

"How do you keep it from him?"

"I don't know. I'm typically a very honest person. I don't think it's crossed his mind that I could be doing something deceptive. I'm only trying to help."

"I know how that feels. Okay; let's work on your grappling technique, shall we?"

Tino showed me a few tricks (we decided that, with my strength, a throw would be my best move), and we sparred for a while. His punches were surprisingly substantial, and he was going easy on me. I realized that I didn't really know how to take a hit.

"Sascha, I need you to help me out with something."

"Sure thing."

"Punch me as hard as you can in the stomach."

He widened his eyes. "You're not serious, are you?"

"I need to build up my endurance. You know how to take hits, but I really can't."

He shook his head and chuckled. "I really don't want to have to do this, but I suppose you're right…in a delusional way."

I laughed. "Yep. Now hit me."

He lunged forward, attempting to hit my navel, but mid-lunge he tripped and struck something far more sensitive.

"_Holy mother of God!" _ I struggled not to drop to my knees, though my whole body felt like it was tearing apart. "Kunem, kunem, kunem…"

"_Perkele_, I'm sorry!" He rushed over to me, his voice filled with concern. It sounded familiar. "I didn't mean to do that. Sascha, breathe, man…breathe."

"It's fine," I sucked in air through my teeth, "Just…give me a little recovery time. _Fuck_, you landed a good shot. Too bad that's against the rules."

"I feel awful. Dude, we should just end practice. The fact that you can _stand_ through that is impressive. You'll definitely be able to take a hit."

"I hope. Are you sure you don't need any more striking practice?"

"I'll be fine…Christ, that was unfortunate."

I tried to smile. "You're telling me. Don't worry about it. I'll see you for practice on Thursday."

He nodded and began to turn away.

"Sascha, one more thing." I smirked, "You aren't really Russian, are you?"

"Of course I am."

"And yet _perkele _is a Finnish word. I have Finnish friends."

He laughed. "You've got me- I am. But you're not any bit Russian, either."

"How do you know?"

He looked at me for a moment, examining my uncovered features. "I just do."

I chuckled. "What do I look like?"

His eyebrows furrowed. "Like someone I know." He shook his head. "But I know you're not him."

"You wouldn't know me."

"You're probably right. You don't have his crucifix."

I could feel myself sweat- I'd taken mine off this morning. Still, I remembered that this was Los Angeles- nearly everyone wore a crucifix.

I quickly ignored that notion. The likelihood of Sascha and I actually knowing one-another was extremely slim.

Still, I supposed I needed to be careful. Though there were few Finns in Los Angeles, the ones that did live there all knew one-another. Even people that Tino would never choose to associate himself with were still on his radar- he knew of every scandal, every affair, every childbirth, every marriage that happened within the Finnish community. Sascha could very likely be an acquaintance.

…

It was all I could manage to stay awake while giving lessons and working a late-night shift at Zankou. By midnight, I wanted nothing more than to lie in bed and sleep until noon.

Tino was home from his lesson, busily working on his thesis. I put my hand on his shoulder and kissed his cheek before trudging to bed. He wished me sweet dreams.

I still smelled like oil and paprika, but a shower would just have to wait.

…

"How was your hike with Sadik?" I settled into the LA-Fitness pool, grateful for the relief of cool water on my sore muscles.

"Excellent," Hera smiled, "he really appreciates nature. It's nice to see that."

"He's a nice guy. I'm glad that you two are together."

"Well, I wouldn't quite say we're a couple yet... It's not official."

"Have you guys kissed?"

"On the cheek. I'm waiting for the third date."

I grinned. "Good choice."

"Thanks. How was practice with that Sascha guy?"

"Really weird. He's a nice guy, but he's suspicious of everything. I feel like he's analyzing my every move. Plus, he's Finnish, so Tino most-likely knows or knows-of him."

"You have to be careful- Finns have a weird way of knowing about one-another's lives... They don't even have to ask. Finnish people have freaky ESP."

"It's probably because their ancestors had to sense if a predator was about to sneak up behind them in a barren, snowy wasteland. Or something like that. Weird genetics. Enough of that. Tell me more about your dates."

"Well…he and I have a lot in common. We both love Carpintaria, cats, and food, which is already a winning combination… He seems like a really caring person. I want to get to know him better."

"You'll be glad that you did. His sister, Serpil, is really nice. She would love you."

"I sure hope so. I don't want to get too invested in this yet, though."

"You have plenty of time."

He was quiet for a moment, before he inhaled and continued:

"These are strange years. Nobody ever told me that."

"I agree. It can only keep getting better, though."

I truly believed what I had just said.

…

"You're getting better at striking," I mused, lifting Sascha's elbow as he repeatedly hit a punching bag. "I think we're going to do well in the upcoming fight."

He relaxed. "I hope so." He headed over to his water bottle, gulping it down. "Tell me a bit more about yourself."

"There's not much I dare to."

"Tell me why you fight, then."

I wiped the sweat off my forehead with a towel. "I love my boyfriend. He's so wonderful, and he works so hard…he's, um, learning a trade. We have next to nothing; we're practically living off top ramen. I just want to help him get his degree. He's put so much effort into this, and I'm willing to put my dream on hold if it means that he can accomplish his. Why do you?"

"For the same reason- my boyfriend works too many jobs just to support me. I…want to be an actor. He's helping me out with that. Landing me gigs and such. He's working all these odds-and-ends jobs to aid me. I work hard, too, but I still wish I could contribute more…I hope I'm not encroaching, but why exactly do you decide not to tell him?"

"I wouldn't want him to think any less of me. I would never, ever hurt him, and I don't want him to think I'm some brute. Plus, he would be so afraid for my sake. I could get my ass handed to me at any time."

"I'm sure he wouldn't think less of you- if he knows you as well as he does, he'll be sure of how kind you are."

"I suppose…what about you?"

"My boyfriend would probably have a heart attack if he knew I was fighting. I'm a small guy. He worries for me a lot- I never told him this, but once a guy tried to rob me, and I had to get my knife out to convince him to back off. If my boyfriend knew, he would have panicked- 'I should have been with you! Oh, are you okay? My love, I am so sorry!' I don't want him to be scared. Los Angeles is really different from where I used to live- there are so many more dangers, but I can handle them."

I realized that, like Sascha's boyfriend with Sascha, I always strove to protect Tino, even though he could take care of himself just fine. Perhaps I was being overbearing with my worries? I would have to work on that- I would never want to stifle Tino's independence.

Still, if it were him that were nearly mugged, I would have surely developed an ulcer. I supposed that, for Tino's sake as well as my stomach's, I needed to put more faith in his ability to defend himself.

…

Mathias, once out of the hospital, started work again immediately- though from his home office. He was happy to have the chance to see Lilly more often, even if it meant letting Tino go. The Finn didn't seem too concerned about his own financial situation.

And, truth be told, Mathias couldn't afford any extra expenses. His procedure was pricey enough, and he felt like he was swimming in debt.

But at least the shaking had stopped.

A thought crossed him- one that terrified him to the core. He shook it out. He had given up gambling years ago- he would not put his husband or his daughter in an even worse situation. Still, it tempted him.

He would have to find another job, that much he knew. But what would he do?

…

I realized that I needed to take my shower quickly. There was an ugly bruise in between my legs, one that I hoped Tino wouldn't have to see. I washed the area carefully, breathing unsteadily. It still hurt like a bitch.

No such luck. Tino had woken up and entered our bathroom, stripping off his clothes to join me in the shower. He pulled away the curtain and stepped in, about to give me a kiss before he stopped in his tracks.

"What happened to you?" His eyes were as wide as saucers.

"I was playing guitar and fell of my stool…my guitar was between my legs. Don't worry- I'll be fine."

Tino eyed the area suspiciously. He glanced up at me, analyzing my face. His stare seemed so stoical, almost like…

"Do you need any Aleve?" His gentle voce stirred me from my thoughts. "I don't have any, but I can go buy some, I'm sure."

I breathed a sigh of relief. Hopefully, Sascha hadn't told him anything about whacking another guy where it hurt. "Some Aleve would be great."

He chuckled. "I'm sorry, I don't mean to laugh. That just seems _really_ painful."

"It's certainly not pleasant. It doesn't stop me from enjoying the sight of you naked, though."

"With your libido, I'm not surprised."

I leaned forward to kiss him, only furthering his point.

…

"This plank has to be covered in algae." Sadik grinned, trying desperately not to slip on the ladder that led up to said platform. He and Heracles were just off the shore of Carpintaria, enjoying the ever-warm southern Californian weather.

"That, and tar." Hera smiled and sat on the oversized buoy, watching the benign waves float toward the beach.

"Uck, speaking of which, I got some on my feet."

"Well, that's a given at Carp. You get to keep it as a souvenir."

The Turkish man laughed. "And take off some of my skin, while I'm at it."

Heracles chuckled, his windswept hair falling heavily over green eyes. Sadik swept a few loose strands back and tucked tem behind Hera's ear. His hand lingered, resting against the Grecian's cheek for a moment before dropping down to the support of the platform.

"We might see a dolphin today, if we're lucky…" Heracles commented, scanning the endless blue.

"I feel lucky." Sadik smiled, a hint of embarrassment puckering his lips, "How about you?"

Heracles extended his hand, lacing his slippery fingers with Sadik's. "I do, too…now that you're here."

Hera could swear he felt his heart drum in his ears, felt his face and hands and entire countenance burn, when Sadik leaned forward to kiss him. It was dizzying, intoxicating vertigo- and he loved every second of it.

…

Sascha hummed to himself as we waited for our match. With our scarves properly fastened over our chins, we were ready to compete.

I stared in the mirror, frowning underneath my cover. My father would be so ashamed if he knew what I was doing, if he knew I had to cover myself from embarrassment. Still, I couldn't help but feel proud of myself. I had someone to fight for.

Like the calm before a storm, Sascha sang slowly, quietly. "Katson autiota hiekkaranta…"

I smiled to myself. That was one of Tino's favorite songs. "Ajatukseni mun kauas kantaa…" I rejoined.

He raised an eyebrow. "You know this song?"

"Finnish friends."

He chuckled. "That's right. Are you ready?"

I nodded. "Yes. You?"

"I am. Let's get out there."

…

Our competitors were formidable- two tall, built men. Brothers from Germany. It was a struggle for me to remain composed as Sascha and I entered the ring.

The bell rang, signaling the beginning of our round. Sascha sprang forward right away, grappling the albino brother's leg between his and struggling to knock him to his feet. He took a series of hard jabs, but endured them well. Still, once his competitor fell to the ground, Sascha was dragged down with him. Still, he could handle the wrestling. Now I needed to take out my challenger.

I blocked a few of the attempted hits that the German assailed, crouching low. He was punching quickly, and tiring himself out at that. As long as I kept blocking,-

I felt like the wind had been knocked out of me. I nearly stumbled backwards, but caught myself. My competitor's jab to my collar-bone had connected, and it was going to leave a rather colorful bruise.

I needed to throw in some hits. I first aimed for my competitor's rib-cage, a maneuver that he easily evaded. This would be tougher than I'd originally thought. I had to think strategically. I faked a punch to his left side, only to connect on his right.

_"Scheisse!"_

Bingo. I zeroed in, hitting the side of his cheek to disorient him. Still, he seemed too alert. He tried to clock me in the nose, but I simply crouched lower. This position gave me an advantage- I knocked him off his balance and pinned him down, though he didn't go down without one final fight. He struggled, trying to overtake me in any way possible. This submission was not going to be easy.

A whistle sounded, loud and clear. Sascha had beaten his opponent. He came over to aid me, quickly getting our competitor in a choke-hold. Within ten seconds of what must have been like torture, the German capitulated. We had won.

"Let's give a great round of applause to our winners- Kamikazian and Kalevala!" Eileen spoke cheerfully, but her troubled eyes worried me.

The sound of the crowd cheering was almost too much. I felt my vision blur, and the ground swayed beneath me.

I was having a panic attack.

I turned to Eileen, my eyes frantic.

"I need to go to your office!" I struggled to convey over the clamor of the room. She took my hand, ordering Sascha to get a cold seltzer water from the bar as we rushed to the small, quiet, Ikea-bedizen room.

…

Once inside, she turned to me. "Panic attack?" she asked with sympathetic eyes.

I nodded, trying to keep the bile that revolted against my throat inside my stomach.

"I used to get those when I was younger."

"This is the first time in years…"

"Ye must be really stressed, then." Eileen frowned. "Is something on yer mind?"

I sighed. "On my subconscious, at the very least. Eileen, I wish I could tell you. But I can't- you wouldn't be able to keep it to yourself. Not because I don't trust you, but you would rightfully be loyal to someone else first."

"I don't tell secrets, as long as they aren't puttin' anyone else in danger."

"I'm the only one affected by it…but it has to do with someone else you know, indirectly. I don't feel right burdening you with this knowledge."

"It won't pass m' lips, and that's a promise. I want to hear what's going on- I know quite a bit about this business. I can help." She extended her hand, and after a moment, I shook it.

"I need to do this before Sascha comes in…" I pulled the scarves away from my face and scalp, shutting my eyes tightly. I couldn't stand to have another person analyze me.

"Oh my God," she inhaled sharply, "Alex?"

My eyes still closed, I nodded.

"Please don't tell him- I don't like it, either. We need the money so badly…"

"I know ye do. Oh God, Alex, I don't know what to tell ye. Ye really need to talk to Tino about this- just trust me on this one."

I shook my head. "I can't. He wouldn't want me to-" I felt my stomach convulse and let out a strangled cry, running out the fire exit and into the alley outside. It was too much anxiety for me to handle at once- my stomach emptied itself. Despite my successful fight, I felt like shit.

"Ya okay?" Eileen put her hand on my shoulder and swabbed my mouth with sanitizing wipes. We heard another door open.

"Put these back on," she whispered, rushing back into the room to distract Sascha.

I entered the room again, the blond man visibly worried.

"What happened?"

"I got a little sick. I think I might have the flu."

He didn't seem to believe me, but he didn't question my statement, either. "What are our winnings for this week, Eileen?"

"Not quite as high, I'm afraid. Ye both get about $750, but that's after all the taxes are taken off."

"That's fine. Any money is welcome."

She smiled sadly. "I'll make out yer checks right away."

Once the notes were issued, I turned to Sascha. "I'll see you at our next practice?"

"Sure thing. I'd stay to chat with you guys, but I need to catch my ride home."

I nodded, waving as he left the room. I turned to Eileen, who looked down solemnly and ran her fingers through mussed red hair.

"I have a story to tell ye, Alexianos."

I glanced at her. "Of course."

"Tino knows this one. It's mighty embarrasin', so please don't laugh."

I didn't dare, so I simply nodded and smiled encouragingly.

"Ye might notice that I'm a bit older, even for someone in my career. I'm no spring chicken- let's face it; I'm nearly forty years old. Aeden is only thirty-three. An' he's a saint to me, at that," she sighed, "I didn't go directly to Uni. M' dad tried to get me on the right track- he was real worried for me. M' mum , too. An', before I knew it, I was in awful shape. I was in a part of the movie industry that I'd rather not talk about- I'm certain ye know the kind. An', a few years later, a coworker nearly raped me. I was able to protect myself, thank Heavens, but that's when I knew I had to get out. I'd always been a smart bird, an' I couldn't waste m' God-given talents. It didn't make me happy- it just gave me something to do. An' so, I picked myself up, I went to Uni, an' I realized just how much I wanted to make medicine. I lived with m' parents for a while. It was awfully hard- my parents were ashamed of my past, but they told me to keep lookin' forward. I told them about everythin'. They helped me file charges against the attacker. Ye gotta tell yer loved ones the truth, Alex. That's what I'm getting' at."

"Eileen," I took her hand in mine, "there is not a doubt in my mind how strong you are. To go through that is something I can't even fathom. But I don't have your strength yet. I want to tell Tino, but I can't."

"Don't doubt yerself," she looked at me seriously, "Every truly brave person has been weak at some point. Our trials only make us stronger, ya know. An' ye, Alexianos, are one tough guy. Which is why ye need to tell Tino. He loves ya like nothin' else in this world- more than I love chocolate, if ye can imagine! He's goin' through a lot for yer sake, too."

"Don't I know it…I'll try to tell him, but I can't make any promises."

"That's a start," she grinned, "Ye'll be glad ye did."

…

Tino felt his nervous energy accumulate into a massive tension headache. He willed the guilt away- it wasn't serving any practical purpose, after all. And yet, he couldn't help but fret. Fret that Alexianos would find out. Fret that he would get hurt, or worse, killed (it happened more often than one thought!), and leave his lover thrice abandoned. How could he do that to Alexianos? His jan, his kulta, his love? Alex would die for his sake in a heartbeat, but he would lose his mind if Tino ever had to do the same.

Tino sighed, breathing air from puffed cheeks out rounded lips. It was pure torture- how would he get through this? He never considered himself very religious, but he found himself praying feverishly- praying for himself to be protected, praying for Alexianos to be ignorant to it all.

He heard the front door open and shut his eyes quickly. Alex tiptoed over, kissing Tino's cheek gently before picking him up and carrying him to bed.

"Yes ts'avum yem," Alexianos whispered before turning out the light. _I'm sorry_.

Tino felt like crying. He'd been lying to his lover, and yet Alex apologized for coming home late? It was nearly too much to bear.

"Mi." _Don't be_.


	8. Silicon Valley

"Aleksi, can you get the phone?" Tino called from the shower.

"Sure!" I rushed into the kitchen, extending the cord as I picked up the large, gray contraption.

"Hi, Alexianos speaking."

There was a silence on the line before a familiar, begrudging voice spoke.

"Hello, Alexianos."

If there was one person that I really didn't want to talk to, she was my mother in law. "Mitä kuuluu, Rva. Väinämöinen?" I asked politely. I could nearly see her lips drawn tightly into a frown.

"You've pronounced it wrong. And I'm fine, thank you. May I talk to my son?"

"Tino is in the shower right now. Would you like me to tell him to call you back?"

"No, I've already called, now. Long distance is expensive, you know."

I nearly laughed- she was being so rude! I suppose it was to be expected; she was a Perussoumalainen*, after all. The Finnish women I met were generally kind and polite, but Mrs. V definitely didn't fit the stereotype.

"Ah, I see… Would you like me to take a message, then?"

"Yes. Viljami and I will be in Los Angeles tomorrow, believe it or not. He will be meeting with some of the higher-ups in Nokia. We would like to take you both to dinner."

"That is very kind of you-"

"I miss my son," she stated firmly, "Let's meet at the Chart House in Rodando at eight, then."

"Let me just ask Tino if-"

"Seriously? He hasn't seen us in years. You two can make it to a dinner. He wouldn't say no."

"Okay, then. Have a nice day…er, it's night in Finland, I guess."

"…Thank you." _Click_.

I sighed to myself. Tino's parents did _not_ like me. Tino never went out with men before he met me, which was enough for them to consider me a varlet, apparently. And "worse," I'm…Caucasian? Near Eastern? It didn't make a difference. Apparently, when Tino's mother first saw a picture of him and I together, she asked why he was posing next to a "gypsy-terrorist." It was bad enough, at least in his parents' minds, that I wasn't Finnish…even though my boyfriend's father is part Swedish.

Tino entered the room, clad in a robe. "Who called?"

"Apparently your parents trust me enough to go to a restaurant without bombing it."

He chuckled. "No, seriously, though. They called?"

"We'll be going to dinner with them at the Chart House tomorrow."

He frowned. "Shit. Why would they even come here? My dad hasn't talked to me since you and I started going out. I thought I was dead to them."

"I don't think they're completely soulless. I'm sure they still love you, deep down."

"I have my doubts. Do I love them instinctively? Yes. Do I like them? Not one bit. I'm certain the feeling is mutual."

"Well, is it okay that I accepted the dinner? I was going to ask you, but your mother got mad at me for even mentioning that I consult you first. I didn't want to make things worse."

"It's okay- thanks for thinking of me, though. No, I should see them, but I'm worried about what they'll say to you."

I chuckled. "I've built up a tolerance for racist remarks, jan. Most that are directed towards members of the Taliban, and not actual Middle Easterners, in the first place."

He smiled. "Even though you're not Middle Eastern."

"Exactly. I'd be surprised if a bigot could find Armenia on a map."

"Good point. I really owe you, Alex. Their opinion doesn't matter to me at all, but it still must be rough."

"I know you're not like them," I hugged him, "Thank _God_ you're not like them."

"I think that ship sailed when I sang along to ABBA at a school talent show."

"I want to see a video of that! I bet you were adorable."

Tino laughed. "That's what I was going for. Too bad I was ten."

"That's even cuter."

We held hands for a moment, glancing at one another with cheerful eyes. The cheer was gone, however, when I noticed a bruise on the side of Tino's jaw.

"Where did you get this?"

"I fell off my bike last night."

"Oh, jan…" I got an ice pack from the refrigerator, "You and I are just about the clumsiest people on earth, aren't we?"

"Knowing our luck, we'll uncover a land-mine while at the Chart House. And then we really _will_ blow up the restaurant." We laughed.

"Shh, don't let the government get that on tape! We've gotta be sneaky, Tino! Now, where's the sacrificial goat?"

He burst into laughter. "To our Lord and Savior, Kim Kardashian!"

"To the holy black Mercedes Benz!"

"To rosaries of gold chains!"

"To our daily bread of falaffel!"

"This is getting offensive." Tino could barely contain his snickering.

"To Bacardi Jell-o shots and iPhones?"

His stomach heaved from hysterics, and he grinned. "God, we are just as bad as my parents."

"We're worse," I winked, "But at least we're insiders."

…

Tino's parents greeted us at the oceanside restaurant, hugging their son with a surprising degree of warmth. He overplayed his flicker of excitement into a conflagration, eagerly speaking with them in Finnish for a moment. I stepped forward.

"It's wonderful to finally meet the both of you in person. I'm Alexianos." I extended my hand, which both tepidly shook (later wiping their hands off behind their backs). Tino glanced at me apologetically.

"Nice to meet you, Alexianos," Tino's mother attempted a smile. She glanced at my cowlick, raising her chin slightly. "A windy day, is it?"

I met her gaze and smiled. "Indeed. How are you both enjoying California?"

"It's nice here, indeed. Very warm though- I don't know how you stand it, Tino." She smiled fondly at her son as the four of us settled into our booth.

"The summers are difficult," he admitted, "but the sun never stops shining here. I'd love for you guys to come here in spring someday."

There was a silence between the three family members- a silence that seemed completely normal to them, but excruciatingly uncomfortable for me. I knew that Finns were contemplative, but this early on in a conversation?

"How do you enjoy Finland?" I asked the Väinämöinens, leaning forward with interest.

"It is nice," Tino's father answered slowly, "Very cold. Of course, now that Soini's lost, the whole country will go to Hell in a handbasket."

"I quite hoped that Mari Kiviniemi would win, but I suppose that Niinistoe can't do us harm."

"Tino, it's not polite to speak of politics so soon." Mrs. Väinämoinen seemed nervous, out-of-breath.

Tino excused himself, and we sat in silence for a moment longer.

"Alexianos is a musician," Tino piped cheerfully, holding my hand underneath the table, "He sings and plays guitar. He's wonderful at it, too."

"A musician?" Tino's parents asked simultaneously.

"Yes," I nodded, "I give guitar lessons as well, actually."

"Well, I suppose once Tino becomes a pharmacologist, he can support the both of you," Tino's father offered condescendingly.

"Alexianos is helping me pay for graduate school. He's the hardest-working person I know." Tino smiled, though his words held an undercurrent of annoyance.

"Oh, I'm sure indeed! All Hispanics are as such, I've heard. Migrant-worker mentality and all."

I wanted to pound my head against the table repeatedly. Tino's parents were, quite possibly, the most ignorant people I'd ever met.

"I'm not Hispanic," I chuckled gently, "I'm Armenian."

Their eyes widened- is that where Tino learned the shocked gesture from?

"I see…" Mrs. Väinämöinen laughed nervously. "I did not know that some of you people were Christian." She gestured to the gold cross around my neck.

"All of us are," I tried desperately to keep my tone polite, "Armenia was the world's first Christian nation."

"It was also a former republic of the Soviet Union, which didn't allow formal religion," Viljami interjected, frowning at me slightly.

"Ooh, look, here comes the bread!" Tino graciously accepted the basket from our waitress. "I sure do love bread. Mom, you always used to buy the best ruisleipa when we went to Karelia! I put lots of butter on my bread, or sometimes lingonberry jelly. They sell lingonberry jelly at IKEA here, you know. Once Alex and I went to IKEA and tried to buy a couch, but then we realized that it was really cheaply made and we would probably be able to find better stuff on eBay…heh."

His parents looked as though they were witnessing the apocalypse before their very eyes. A Finnish man going off on an excursus about Swedish food? Preposterous!

Mrs. Väinämöinen cleared her throat. "You seem on edge. You know that there is nobody here you need to feel uncomfortable around, Tino. Just us and your," she cringed, "boyfriend."

"Yes, it's great to have you all together! Now you get to see the most wonderful person I know." Tino nuzzled my shoulder, fully aware of what effect his action would have on his parents. At this moment, he seemed to be past caring what they thought, and this was my invitation to relax, as well.

Not that I was so sure I could.

The two watched us with false smiles and disgust.

"How much you've changed, son," Mrs. V commented, "you certainly didn't learn such affection in Finland."

"Oh, it's innate," I grinned, "Tino is the sweetest person I know." I felt satisfied that I could horrify them, even if only a little.

Viljami's annoyance seemed ill-contained at this point. "I would certainly hope that you're not trying to change our son. Equality in a relationship is an important Finnish virtue."

"It's a virtue to me, as well, I can assure you. Tino is incredible, as it stands."

"And yet he is so different after having met you," Tino's mom interjected, "I wonder if this is by his own choice."

"I would have thought you both knew me better," Tino responded, speaking a few words in Finnish afterwards. His father parents flushed angrily.

"A Lady GaGa reference at this moment is highly inappropriate."

I was torn. Part of me felt awful for sitting and watching the tense conversation without intervening, but what was I to do? I would come across as boorish and rude if I joined in. Besides, who was I to say that Tino needed my help?

"And I suppose he was 'born this way' in the front seat of a speeding BMW, then?" Viljami glared at me.

I checked my annoyance and stopped myself from making a stereotypical comment about Finns and black Audis. "Actually, a speeding Beemer, but you were awfully close."

Tino glanced at me, smiling. I'd joined his side.

"You are incredibly rude," Mrs. Väinämöinen whispered harshly, her pale face heated.

"He's actually extremely polite," Tino defended, "Especially after having been treated as a second-class citizen for the duration of this meal. I really don't think I can handle this dinner."

"And I can't handle seeing my son with a bruise on the side of his face!" She seethed, her gray eyes glowering at me.

"Are you serious?" My voice was devoid of all emotion, and I glanced at them with wide eyes. "I can't believe you even think I would do that to Tino. God, do either of you know anything about my country or people, or do you simply rely upon spoon-fed, generally untrue stereotypes to judge every Armenian you meet?"

"Well, you don't need to get so upset." Tino's mother crossed her arms, scowling.

Unable to stand the false accusations any longer, I rolled my eyes. "If you don't mind us," I rose from the table, holding Tino's hand in mine, "we'll be leaving."

"That sits fine with us," Tino's father scoffed.

"You know, I really love this man. I'm extremely disappointed that you can't be happy for me. Haista vittu*," the young Finn rejoindered.

The shock on the elder Väinämöinens' faces clearly translated what my boyfriend had just said. And I couldn't have been more proud.

…

Tino and I regained our breath, our damp hair sticking to our heads and our heated skin sticking together.

"…We should argue with people more often." Tino grinned. I had to agree- all the adrenaline and testosterone built-up made for an incredible (and aggressive- at least, compared to our usual "vanilla") night in bed. I leaned over, kissing one of his eyelids.

"That was indeed quite passable." I tried my hand at an English accent, making Tino and myself burst into giddy laughter.

"A fine show it was! Perhaps if you leave your number, we can do it again some time." My Finnish boyfriend's Joensuu accent overtook any semblance of an Anglo tone in his words. It was incredibly cute.

I rested my arm on his bicep, pulling the sheet and comforter over us. I was struck with an incredible urge to confess- to tell Tino the truth. "There's something I need to tell you."

"Me, too. You go first."

His innocent lavender eyes probed mine, waiting for my answer as a faint smile curved his lips. I felt myself shake to the very core. I couldn't do it.

"Just that I'm so thankful to be with you."

Tino leaned forward, kissing me slowly. After a moment, he pulled away. "And I just wanted to tell you that I love you. I love your talents, your voice, your intellect, your culture, your mannerisms. I'm so proud to be your boyfriend, and I wouldn't rather you be a Jussi or a Pekka or a Kimo*. I want Alexianos.Nobody will ever be able to convince me otherwise."

I still cannot express the emotion that overtook me then. I felt the kind of warmth that only true, pure happiness can usher in. Tino's confession was wholly heartfelt, and I couldn't help but feel at a loss for words. Instead, I chose to take his hand in mine and kiss his ring finger, hoping that my message would be conveyed.

It was.

…

*The Perussuomalaiset are a nationalist party within Finland known for their racist views. Timo Soini is their head.

*Mari Kiviniemi is the leader of the Centre Party, which focuses on agriculture and localism (as in, grow organically and locally, support small business, etc. :D).

*"Haista vittu"= something along the lines of "Fuck you."

*Jussi, Pekka, and Kimo are all Finnish names. Tino is basically saying that he doesn't care that Alex isn't Finnish.

**This should be common sense, but I _definitely_ don't agree with any of the stereotypes that Tino's parents mentioned. I try to judge people's characters only after I get to know them as much as possible.


	9. North Hollywood

The course of the next month flew by in a whirlwind. Tino gave his mid-course presentation two weeks after my fight against Saroyan. I figured that I could take the weekend before off to help him practice- I needed to give more lessons that week, anyhow. Training was really cutting in to my tutoring time. Besides, with all his cramming, he would need someone at home to fix meals for him, something that I was more than glad to help with. I tried my hand at a few Finnish dishes, buying Karelian items from the Russian markets in West Hollywood.

Life continued normally. Tino gave his presentation and felt it was a success. With all the preparation he'd put into it, I wasn't surprised. He'd been working on it for months in advance. After my week off, I went back to training with Sascha again. Little by little, he began to trust me more. He spoke a little about life in Finland, though we generally practiced more than spoke. He was a nice man, though, and I had a feeling that, under different circumstances, we would have been good friends.

Our next event, a highly anticipated fight against two "veterans," was difficult indeed. Though no bones were broken (and thankfully so!), Sascha's nose bled horribly for thirty minutes after we'd won the event. I vaguely remembered Tino telling me something about how profusely Finns bleed when they get nosebleeds. My mouthguard had slipped mid-fight, and I'd chipped one of my back teeth. Still, I managed to grapple my opponent, wrestle him to the floor, and submit him within two minutes. I felt awfully proud of that.

Sascha and I were beginning to become feared men at the club. Other fighters stared at us, often with annoyance or frustration, as we walked by. Neither of us really cared- these fights were part of a double life, and we weren't competing to make friends nor enemies.

I figured it was time to visit my mom again. I was thankful that she and my dad had always liked Tino. Though many in my extended family clearly disapproved of my "choice" to be with a male odar, my immediate family was accepting of the fact. I was lucky.

I ventured to Ararat in the morning, signing my name at the front desk and greeting at the clerk. I'd visited so many times that I could easily find the room on my own. Upon entering the room, I smiled to myself. Even if the building smelled a bit stale, my mother's perfume permeated the room.

My mother, Anait Kirzigian, was exactly the kind of person that would liven a room with perfume. Her walls were ornamented with photographs of our family as well as her own, many depicting her in her younger years. Even in her old age, she dressed in colorful pantsuits, skirts, and dresses. And she shuddered at the thought of not kneeling her arthritic limbs in prayer twice a day. Her iTouch rested on her desk, a device that probably contained more audiobooks than songs. When I was a child, she often read me Steven Hawking's "A Brief History of Time." My mother was a chemical engineer, after all.

My mom glanced up from her book as I walked in. I wondered whether she would be coherent today or not.

"My dear son!" She stood, straightening her back as she leaned on a wooden cane for support, "I am so happy you've come today. You look so much like Hayk, I thought you were his ghost!"

I smiled. My mom had told me I'd looked like my father from the time I was four.

"Thanks, mom. How are you?"

"Oh, I've been grand, really. We have a chess competition tonight, and Lord knows I want to beat Vartan!"

I hugged the elderly woman. "I'm sure you will. What book are you reading?"

She laughed to herself and sat in silence a moment before answering. "Don't you remember?"

I shook my head, peering down.

"Your father used to write poetry all the time. He was a very good poet- I believe you learned your flair with lyric from him. Do you know what this poem is about?"

"Hm?"

"Hayk wrote a lovely poem about you when you were born. Have you never read it? Here, you must."

I accepted the book from my mother, my fingers brushing against the film of dust that covered it. Inside, I read the faded cursive:

"I have many wishes for my only child. A father always wants what is best for his son, but I hope that his heart will be the first to guide him.

When he is lost, let him consult a map. If he is confused with such a chart, let him have the wisdom to ask a woman for help."

I smiled- this sounded exactly like my dad.

"Let my son be very wise, but never be so aware of it as to become foolish once more.

Let him be talented at playing the violin, singing ballads, running track-and-field, and completing math problems. Let him take after his mother in that regard, as I am worthless at mathematics, but let him inherit my voice.

Please let my son be innocent. I hope he spends countless days basking in the warmth of the sun, and feeling blissfully happy for no reason other than that the birds are calling out to him. Let him believe that every bird's song is for his ears, except for that of the raven. I like to believe that my son will be immortal, after all.

Let my child enjoy dancing. Let him be a terrible, spastic dancer, thus allowing him to love it all the more.

When he falls in love, let him spend countless days dreaming of his beloved. Let him have the inspiration to write poetry all over his notebooks. And if she is an odar, let him try to learn her language. Let him really, really try, for then he will understand his parents' struggle with the language barrier.

If my son must fight, let him fight with every ounce of his being. But only let him fight for a just cause.

Let my son be honest, but not so honest that he will admit that his lover is getting "a little soft around the middle." Let him have tact.

Let him have knowledge. Let him be fascinated with everything- psychology, architecture, botany, history, and arts. Let him be so fascinated that others may think he's strange. Let him have true friends with common interests and kind hearts to help him realize how wonderful it is to be different.

Let my son have a warm heart. Let him want to spread his warmth to others, even if they are unkind.

Let my son be a slow driver. Never let him drive anything other than a blue Toyota.

Never let my son smoke, get a conspicuous tattoo, pierce his ears, commit a felony, or ride a motorcycle.

Never let my son become a politician.

If my son is interested in politics, then let him be a fair and just leader- one that will make me scorn politicians a little less.

Let my son protect those that are downtrodden. Let him stand up for what is right and give a voice to those that cannot speak. Let my son enjoy charity.

Let my son know that a man is not judged by the strength of his arms, but instead, by the strength of his faith in love and kindness.

Let him never be a cheater. If he cheats, let him be so horrified with himself that he will never think of doing it again. And let him be fair-minded enough to confess.

Let my son always bear the knowledge that his mother and I love him more than anything else in the world. Let him know that he is the most brilliant light, more brilliant than the sun. Let him know that he is my American dream.

Let him wish all this and more for his own children.

My dearest Alexianos, you will always make me proud."

I wiped the corners of my eyes, reading the pages over-and-over again in shock. It was as though I were speaking to my dad again, hearing his voice echo off the walls. I wanted to do nothing more than to hug my mother and cry. Instead, I swallowed with difficulty, smiled, and handed the book back to her.

"Not a day goes by that he doesn't watch you." Her voice was strained, though her features remained undisturbed and gentle.

I wasn't sure what to say. I simply nodded and smiled again, sitting in silence with my mother for a few more moments. She didn't seem to mind- she merely held my hand until she fell asleep.

After I was certain that she was deep into her nap, I somehow willed myself to leave.

…

I was an absolute mess when I came home. I never knew how hard it was to lose someone until it happened. I thought I had reconciled it all, but how could he be dead? How could someone with such a legacy leave the earth so quickly? God knows I still needed him- I needed him to tell me what on earth I should do, because everything that seemed to make perfect sense shattered after reading his poem. Was I doing the right thing? How could I justify fighting when I could probably make the same amount of money from booking a few gigs a week? I enjoyed performing- I loved connecting with a crowd and sharing my music- but how would I be able to keep my job in such a mercurial economy? It seemed like my heart was being ripped to pieces, no matter how much I tried to hold it together. I loved Tino, yet I lied to him. I wanted stability, yet deep within I craved excitement. I enjoyed the performance of amateur fighting, but I hated the fact that I felt forced into doing it for cash.

After preparing a quick dinner of ramen noodles, I fell asleep on the couch. I felt too broken to do anything else. I wished, more than anything, that I could have my dad's reassurance that all would be okay. He would understand.

I woke the next morning still on the couch, but with Tino in my arms. My confusion from the day before subsided overnight, and I felt myself realize that my trials would only be temporary. Yet still, I was unsatisfied. I hadn't performed in quite some time, and I missed it dearly. When would I have the chance to do so again?

I watched Tino's sleeping face, and a resolve set in. If I had to fight, at least I did it for the right reasons.


	10. Pasadena

Later that day, after giving a few more lessons and playing guitar in the park for a while, I received a call from Eileen.

"Heya, Sascha!"

I blushed. "Are you going to call me that from now on?"

"If ye don't like it, then no. How about ye come over for a while? I'm makin' potato-jackets. Tino's coming, too."

"That'd be great! Should I come now?"

"Yep! I'll text ya my address."

Thankfully, her home was within a mile of the park (she lived in a beautiful part of LA), and I reached it on my bike quickly. Eileen and Aeden's house was lovely- the garden had rose bushes that blossomed with lilac, pink, yellow, and orange flowers. The yard, lush and green, smelled of sweet lavender and dry stalks of green beans.

Tino and Eileen greeted me at the door, ushering me in. While the twice-baked potatoes were cooking, the three of us sat on one of the sofas in the living room, listening to an old Maroon 5 CD while chatting.

"I have some good news for ye both," Eileen could hardly contain her wide grin, "Aeden and I are both thrilled."

"What is it?" Tino and I seemed to ask simultaneously.

Eileen, still smiling, pulled a photograph out of her wallet. It was of her, Aeden, and a small child at a playground. The young girl had curly black hair, mocha-colored skin, and wide, happy eyes. She wore a red dress and knee-high socks and hugged a hunched-down Eileen. Aeden watched the two ladies, smiling.

"She's beautiful…" Tino breathed, "What's her name?"

"Amelia. Isn't she lovely? She is the smartest child I have ever met, and she's wonderfully sweet. Aeden and I have been meeting with her and her foster family for the past year, and in a month, she will be our daughter. I'll quit working at the club, of course, and Aeden will take longer hours off during the day. Ah, I'm so excited! We've already prepared her room- she loves 'Aladdin,' so we gave it a Middle Eastern theme."

"Congratulations!" I hugged the Scottish woman next to me, "You and Aeden will make the most amazing parents."

"Oh, I really do hope so. Lord knows I adore this little girl. She's been calling me 'mama' for the past few weeks, and I nearly die! And Aeden fawns over her like nothing else. We've wanted a child for years, and I'm so pleased that we'll finally take care of her. I just wish that we could have raised her for all the other years she's been alive…Well, what do we o'tta do? Would ye both like to see her room?"

Tino and I nodded. "Absolutely."

Eileen led us both to a room upstairs that had a spacious bay window in its far end. The bed covers were amethyst, ruby, and gold-toned, and various portraits of desert landscapes and woven squares of carpet hung on the wall. A small silver cross with a loop on the top hung in the corner- a Celtic symbol. A dream catcher rested above the bed's headboard. A small Jamaican flag was framed and set on the wall, as well.

"This is incredible, Eileen. She'll love it. What is the Jamaican flag for, though?" Tino's fingers ghosted the gilded frame.

The Scottish woman beamed. "Amelia's parents were Jamaican immigrants. I've never met them, but I heard from her foster mother that they gave her up as a babe due to financial problems. They loved her very much...I'd like ta find out who they are someday, if Amelia would like ta meet them."

"Will you have any means of contacting them?" I asked. She nodded.

"If there's a will, there's a way."  
>...<p>

"Mathias?"

The Dane glanced up from his book. "Hm?"

Berwald grinned. "I've got som' good news for ya."

Mathias nodded, urging his husband to continue.

"I took th' liberty of appealing to a few foundations, including the Danish-American Community. I told them about the work you've done, both as a lawyer and Danish translator. They want to pay for your surgery in full."

It took Mathias a moment to let this information settle. "Y- you're serious?"

"Absolutely."

Mathias nearly leapt off the couch. "Ahh, you brilliant man! I can't believe that you coordinated this. Thank you!"

"'f course. How're ya holdin' up?"

"I've been feeling great. In fact," he looped his arms around Berwald's neck, "I feel better than great. Why don't you and I go upstairs so you can feel great, too?"

Berwald didn't need to be asked twice.

...

"hey. r u busy tonight?"

Heracles glanced at his buzzing phone, reading the text. He smiled- it was from Sadik.

"Not really. What do you have in mind?"

"how would u like to go swimming with me? :)"

Hera chuckled. "Tonght? It's pretty warm out, I suppose. Where?"

"i have a spa at my house. any time is good!"

"I'll be there. :)"

Heracles headed over to Sadik's home in Pasadena, grinning as he found the place. It was indeed nice- a white picket fence around a rose garden, with a porch and lawn in front. He knocked on the door and was greeted almost instantly by his swim-trunk-clad boyfriend.

"You look cute," Hera laughed, "I wish I looked that good in trunks." He kissed Sadik, pulling his shirt over his head afterward.

"But you're adorable! Let's go outside-the spa is warmed up already."

Sadik's backyard was just as nice as his front porch. Banyan trees and birches swept the yard with drooping branches, and a clear sky opened overhead. Though it was dark, the thin moon lit the murky Los Angeles sky.

"You have a really nice place."

"Thanks! I just moved in a few months ago, so it's not too messy yet."

Hera grinned. "It looks pretty tidy..." The two settled in the jacuzzi, chatting idly for an hour or so. Though it was windy out, the warm water kept the chill from reaching their bones.

"I'm really glad I've gotten to know you better," Sadik offered, "It's rare to meet someone as contemplative as you are. I'm not a very deep person, but you are, and that makes me want to be more so."

"I'm not very deep," Hera laughed, "I just like to think things through...I'm decisive."

"It's a nice quality to see, especially in Southern California." The couple grinned.

"It's nice to meet someone as genuine as you, Sadik."

He blushed with the compliment. "I appreciate that."

"Any time."

The two were silent for a moment, before Sadik ventured;

"...What's something you've always wanted to do?"

Heracles smiled at the random question. "There's a few things...I've always wanted to run a marathon. I want to go to Kazantip someday. I want to travel to so many places...I want to go skinny dipping."

Sadik laughed. "Then you should!"

Hera's eyes widened. "Right now?"

"Why not? I'll join you."

Heracles contemplated this for a moment. Would it really be wise of him to bare it all? Then again, when was the last time he did something impulsive?

"You have to go first."

"Okay, but I need music! One moment-" Sadik brought his iPhone out from inside the house, and began to play a familiar song from its speakers.

"Right Said Fred?" Heracles chuckled. "You're funny."

"I like to think so! You have to dance with me, though." Sadik climbed into the spa, taking Hera's hand in his.

"What have I done?" Heracles groaned facetiously. Sadik only laughed, twirling him around.

/"I'm too sexy for my shirt, too sexy for my shirt, so sexy it hurts..."/

"Welp." Rather unceremoniously, Sadik tossed his trunks out of the spa. Heracles felt like a complete pervert. "Your turn!"

Heracles blushed before quickly doing the same, eliciting a whistle from his boyfriend. The two laughed awkwardly for a moment before Sadik seized Hera's beret from the table and flitted about the yard.

"Catch me if you can!"

Prudence be damned, Heracles realized as he chased after the other.  
>...<p>

"Ye ought to tell him," Eileen sighed over the line, "Ye really do, Tino."  
>"I know. I will after a few more matches. It's sneaky, but the money is really adding up. This summer, I'll hopefully have graduated and start at a job. Aleksi and I will move to a suburb. All will be better."<p>

"I don't know...I still think ye should let him know. Yer fight tonight will be a hard one- honestly, how do ye hide yer injuries from him?"

"Lots of facial powder. Luckily, Finns are known for getting bloody noses regularly."

"Well, I suppose. Just...trust him. He's a good man, and he'll understand."

The Finn sighed. "You're right. Thanks Eileen."

"No problem. Now, get ready for yer event!"

"Will do."

Our opponents tonight were huge- probably the most intimidating people I'd ever encountered. Sascha and I crouched low, prepared to take them down. Punches alone were not going to help either of us, but my speed sure would.

The round began surprisingly. The two were fast, and immediately tried the same methods as we were about to- attack quickly, and get the other to the ground. I resisted the hard blows delivered to my chest, and instead worked on attacking my opponent's relatively thin legs. In his excitement, he didn't balance his weight well. Still, once he was tripped, he immediately got back up. I had to act fast- I assailed the top of his head with a series of hard jabs. Angrily, he threw his arm at my rib. I was able to block the attack, though my arm reverberated with shock. He could have broken something, had I not been alert.

I continued to wear him down, flitting about the ring. However, it didn't measure up to enough- with a few strategic hits to the side of my face, I felt my vision grow blurry. I had to stay in...

Deciding to pull a risky move, I grappled his ankle while attacking his hips. He swayed, and I aimed a fierce punch to the side of his head. It worked as expected- he fell backward, and was out for the count.  
>I aided Sascha with his far fiercer opponent, but as soon as I reached their vicinity, Sascha brought him down with a high kick. Damn, it was brutal to watch.<p>

"Aon, dha, tri! Let's hear it for our Saschas!"

We waved at the crowd, bowing our heads modestly before leaving the ring. We entered the office with Eileen, only to recive her congratulations.

"Incredible work, men! I can't believe how difficult that round must have been."

Sascha reached for a tissue to place on his bleeding nose. "I'm just happy neither of us broke anything."

"Yer fight next week should be easier- good job to both of ye. That was a great show of skill!"

"Thanks, Eileen." I settled back into a chair, completely exhausted. 

"How would the two of ye like to get drinks with me? We'll go to my place. I'm done for the night."

Though I felt awful, I didn't want to turn down the kind offer. A beer might settle my stomach, anyhow.

"I'd really like that. How about you, Sascha?"

He nodded. "That would be great. Thanks, Eileen."

"Not a problem, boys. Let's ditch this popsicle stand, eh?" She laughed heartily at her joke.

…

"Sho then I said- F-fuck 'em!" Sascha and Eileen laughed uproariously before the Finn continued, "F-fuck 'em all, 'f they don't hire me!"

"W-who-" the Scotchwoman cracked up, banging her fist against the table, "who did you tell this to?" Eileen had only had two beers, but she definitely seemed as though she couldn't hold her liquor well. Though, our "swine flu" masks, as Eileen called them, disguised their inebriated smiles well. I was still on my first drink.

"Ah, I told my boyfriend that they should fuck 'emselves. An' he told me, you know what he tol' me? He said he'd pay twice 's much for an hour wif me!" They burst into laughter again, and I groaned. This was getting embarrassing.

"An' then I think to myself, ya know what? I'm gonna be a grreat scientist som'day, an' all 'f them can kiss my pale ass!"

Scientist? I thought Sascha told me that he wanted to be an actor. Perhaps he knew Tino and Eileen even better than I thought.

"An' then what did ye do?" Eileen was struggling not to giggle.

"I-" Sascha paused, "I don't remember. I think my boyfriend was watchin' the Kardashians, an' I fell asleep on top of him. An' he kept shakin' his head and mumblin' stuff in Armenian whenever Kourtney talked."

And he was dating an Armenian? My exhausted mind seemed to perk up and run at a thousand miles a second. Sascha was definitely not who he said he was.

"Your boyfriend speaks Armenian?" I glanced at Sascha, whose red cheeks raised in a smile.

"Yessir! I sspeak a little, too, though not much!"

"That's interesting…" Interesting was an understatement. Things were all starting to piece together in my mind. How could I have been so oblivious? There was only one more thing I needed to check.

"So, in the Finnish football tournaments, do you root for Helsinki, Sascha?"

"No, way! Those Helsinki buggers ain't nearly as good as Joensuu."

"Uh-huh. Excuse me."

I rushed out of the room, thanking Eileen for the drink and tossing "Sascha" a ten for a cab before bolting out the door. I had to get home. I had to confirm to myself that it wasn't true…

"Wha's his problem?"

Eileen shrugged. "Damned if I know!"

…


	11. Bakersfield

"Good morning, Tino," I greeted my tired husband the next morning. I wanted to know the truth more than anything, but I feared that my suspicions would be confirmed.

He squinted his eyes as he rose. "Mornin', Alex. Yikes, I have a killer hangover…I haven't gotten drunk in years…"

"Yeah, I know."

His eyes widened. "What?"

"You haven't gotten drunk in years."

His relief definitely didn't help ease my mind. "Oh, right."

"How was the show last night?"

"Fine…I got a little bit of money for hosting."

"Nice. How much?"

He frowned. "I can't remember."

I knew it was a lie, and so did he.

"Alex, how was your performance?"

"It went well." I tried desperately not to start shaking from terror. The air around us was palpably tense.

He inhaled shakily. "I…heard an ugly rumor. About you."

I raised an eyebrow. "You _heard_ one?"

He evaded my gaze. "Well…"

"What was it?"

Our eyes met for a few moments, our tense jaws shaking involuntarily.

"How could you do it?" He stared at me with pained eyes, "You don't even have any experience with it! You could have gotten _killed_, and I'm serious about that!"

"And how could you? You're so small- I don't even want to think of what might have happened!"

"You _lied _to me!"

"Well, that's the pot calling the kettle black, isn't it?"

"It's different- I'm experienced with this. You aren't!"

"I had to earn money for us, Tino. Hera entered me- I had no idea what my 'gig' actually was. I'm- I'm just trying to keep us in our apartment!"

"If you had gotten hurt, I would have lost the most important person in my life."

"The same applies to me. How could I handle losing you, jan? How…" I couldn't finish my thought, and took a shuddering breath to calm myself.

The two of us were on the verge of crying. The lack of sleep, the stress, the adrenaline- all were taking their tolls, and we could barely handle them.

"I'm going for a jog," I rose from the bed, throwing on a T-shirt and some running shoes.

"I'm going to Eileen and Aeden's."

I didn't respond to him, but simply nodded. I plugged my headphones in, willingly drowning out the world around me. It was too much to handle, and I knew that I was of equal fault.

Once outside, I lengthened my stride, running as quickly as I could while pumping my arms frantically. I needed to forget everything else and just _think_. What did this mean for Tino and me? We had both lied to one another- we'd jeopardized our own safety without telling the other.

Truth be told, I really was afraid. If anything had happened to Tino, I didn't know how I would have handled it. How could I start my mornings without a hug from him? How could I deal with never eating another burnt meal made by my lover? How could I handle not hearing his melodic, soft voice wishing me sweet dreams as I drifted off to sleep? How could I never kiss him, hold him, talk to him, make wishes with him, or dance with him again? It would numb a part of me forever- there's a piece of me that can only ever belong to Tino.

But, I realized, we had also worked together and fully trusted one-another as sparring partners. I shuddered to think that we had fought, even for training purposes, but I supposed that (in a weird, weird way) it helped us establish an even deeper connection.

I couldn't help but laugh, recalling Tino's accidental punch. He was _strong_.

Though I wished that he would have told me about fighting, I realized that I couldn't fault him- I'd done the very same, after all. I turned around, picking a few wild roses for him in the process. Once I reached home, I placed them in a vase and fell back to sleep. Hopefully, he would come home in a happier mood than that with which he left…

…

I woke to the sound of the front door unlatching. Kicking off the covers, I emerged into the living room, ready to hug my boyfriend and make peace. However, his distraught expression stopped me cold in my tracks.

"_Jan_…" I ventured, my voice so fragile that it nearly shattered in the air. Tears welled in Tino's eyes. He breathed deeply and blinked them away. His face was red and blotched- he had already cried enough.

"Alex, I'm not being fair to you…I mean, you've done so much for me, but really, I'm hindering you from doing what you love. And that's not right. My life has just gotten so progressively messy- I mean, my own parents now completely shun me, and the only money I get is from fighting at a nightclub, and I don't have my degree yet. And what if I don't pass my final presentation?" He choked back a sound that threatened to emerge from his throat and blew his nose, discarding the tissue. "Anyway, I'm getting you tangled up in my problems, and now we're both lying to each other…We both really screwed up. W-we should take a break."

My heart sank so deep into my stomach that I felt I would throw it up. My legs trembled, and I had to sit. The man I loved more than anything wanted separation.

"I-…I cannot say this is what I want, but if you wish it, then we will."

"Aleksi," his tears fell faster, "I don't want this at all. I love you so much. But because I love you, I can't do this to you. I can't expect you to put your desires on hold for me. I breached your trust, and you breached mine! This is just a hard time for the both of us, joo? After we have a break, perhaps it'll be better- then, we can think more clearly…Then, maybe we'll both have enough to give. But I can't say we're necessarily right for one another. We both acted so stupidly…"

I wiped my eyes with the back of my hand, trying to keep my breathing steady. "How long will this last?"

"I should get my degree first, Aleksi. After that, maybe we can try again. I can't afford a new place, and God knows I have no time to move, but I don't expect you to move, either. I'll sleep on the couch, but first I'll spend a few nights with Eileen and Aeden. I think you should go stay with Hera or Nikolai for a while."

A million questions burdened my mind. I can only remember nodding as Tino packed a small duffel bag with his clothes and toiletries and receiving a hug from him before he headed out. Afterwards, I cried until the point of exhaustion and slept through the rest of the day.

…


	12. Palm Springs

…

Eileen hugged Tino, her sympathetic face analyzing his miserable one. "You know that we we'll always help a friend in need. What happened?"

The Finn, far more composed than he had been before, lowered his eyes sadly. "I told him that we should take a break…it's best that way. My life has just gotten so stressful, and he's been so good about helping me out, but I'm not being fair to him. He was made to perform. He loves it. And yet he took on so many jobs on the side just to support me. Plus, he and I both screwed up. How can we trust one-another after that?"

Eileen sat for a moment in thought. "Sometimes, one does a bad thing to achieve a good end. Lying is bad, but ye both knew that if ya told the truth, ya wouldn't get to help one another. Remember that story, 'The Gift of the Magi?' It's a little like that. Alex takes a few punches, sells his watch; ye wrestle a man to the floor, chop off yer hair. How do ya feel, being away from Alexianos?"

"Like death," Tino sorrowed, "It's as though I'm being suffocated, and right before the point of dying, I'm allowed enough air to survive. But I can't continue to hold him back."

"We all make sacrifices for love. Yer degree will help the both of ya live more comfortably in the future, and Alex will have much more freedom for his music. He's payin' his dues forward."

"I broke his heart…"

"Then help him fix it."

Tino glanced up at the Scottish woman, finding encouragement in her eyes. "You think so?"

"I know so. Alexianos would give ye the moon, if he could. He's probably workin' on a way to do so as we speak. And ye would bring him Mars in return. Go find him, go hug him, and for God's sakes, go get some sleep. Ya poor thing, ye're more weary than a corpse!"

The Finn laughed. "I could really use some rest. Thank you, Eileen. You've really helped me out."

"Oh, sure. Ye an' Alex are too sweet not to help."

…

I rose from bed to the smell of overcooked sausages and pancakes. Was Tino back? I felt my stomach ache- I was torn between the desperate desire to see him and the urge to hide underneath my covers and sob. I chose the former, pulling on a robe and some slippers before trudging into the dining room. I hadn't shaven in a few days, and my prickly jaw and baggy eyes shocked me as I passed the mirror.

Tino waited for me at the head of the dining room table, smiling softly. "Alexianos," he greeted. I tried to smile back at him as I walked forward. My chest felt like it had been pierced by an arrow.

"Please, hear me out." I stopped, giving him my attention. He raked his fingers through his hair nervously.

"I'm so sorry for everything that I said yesterday. I've been so horribly stressed lately, and I really felt like I was losing my mind. But after talking to Eileen and getting some sleep, I can now think clearly. I know I've just made this situation worse, and I don't blame you if you feel used or hurt, but Alex; I love you so much. So incredibly much. I never want to hurt you, but I can't even think of life without you, jan. You are the most beautiful, gentle, kind person I know, and you've made me the man I am. You're the first person to ever love me like this- but I'm so afraid of failure. My parents never gave me any reassurance growing up, and when I first met you, I feared that nobody would be satisfied with me. But you so willingly loved me- you so willingly made me feel desired and needed and useful and loved. And I learned how to love myself because you loved me. But I'm not perfect- I'm still afraid of failure. I'm still worried that I'll let you down. And I don't tell people that, because I'm scared that admitting my fears will make them true. But hearing them now, I realize they're in vain. Alexianos, _jan_," he reached for my hand, "I may let you down. But I will always try to lift you up whenever possible. Please let me be yours again- please be mine."

As Tino finished speaking, I enveloped him in a hug. "I am always yours," I whispered, my ragged voice underscoring my promise. We kissed. "And you will never be less than exceptional to me."

Tino buried his head in my shoulder, kissing my clavicle and looping his arms around my waist. "Likewise. Aleksi, I'm so sorry…"

"Don't be. You're here, and as long as you still love me, we'll make it work." I stroked Tino's arm and kissed the side of his head. "You should get some sleep, jan."

"Yeah…I really need to start writing in my journal again. There's so much swimming around in my mind right now, and I just need to get it out in some way."

"Maybe you could get back into drawing? You love it, and you haven't had much time for it lately."

"Yeah…once I graduate, I'll have more time for that. It's just little while longer."

"I'm so proud of you. You're going to be Dr. V soon! This was your dream."

"It's half my dream…"

"What else do you want?"

Tino blushed, smiling with embarrassment. "What if I were Dr. V-K?"

"Would you like to be?" My eyes widened. "I'd like that, too."

"Good." He grinned. "When?"

I laughed. "As soon as we can afford a wedding, I suppose."

"How many people do you want to invite? I'd love for my sister to come, of course, and for Eil and Aeden and Eduard and Elizaveta. And I'm sure you'll want your mother and Hera and Nikolai and Karina and their plus-ones. Who else?"

"I don't have that many people to invite." I chuckled, a bit embarrassed. "A few of my cousins, maybe, other than those already listed. Oh, and then, of course we have to invite all of our _debutante_ and _socialite_ friends."

"Yeah, Rockerfeller would be _pissed _if we didn't invite him."

"So would Vanderbilt!"

"And let's not forget Carnagie."

"Hm, or the Heinz fortune."

"The ketchup people? Are they really socialites?"

"Well, remember when John Kerry ran for president? He was married to someone in the family, and she had lots of money."

"Huh. You know a lot about politics."

I laughed. "No, I just didn't want Bush to win. I'm a terrorist, after all." I winked, and Tino smiled.

"How would I have been able to go a week without you, Alex? You make me laugh, no matter what."

"That's only because I'm hilarious." We laughed, and I held Tino's hand in mine. "I love you, man. Really. Before everything else, you're my best friend in the world."

"And you're mine. And nothing- not this situation, and not anything else- is going to change that."

…


End file.
